#Roommates Blurb

[triplesilverstar]

Pouring the cup of coffee as you and Vash stood in the kitchen after a day of Decorating the apartment and somehow both ended up covered in glitter from the snowflakes on the tree. "Honestly we look like we work as strippers with the amount of glitter on our faces." You giggled as you took a sip, looking down and seeing a few sparkles on the rim.

"Nah, you'd be the showgirl and I'd be the stripper." Sending you a wink as the blond took a sip of his coffee and leaning back against the counter. 

"I think that's the other way around handsome." Shaking your head in response to his words and teasing tone before looking back to the living room, a string of lights hanging across the patio door so it could still be slid open and a person could step under it to get outside. If Nicholas’s path was disrupted when he wanted his cigarettes you and Vash would be in for an annoyed partner and possibly lights thrown to the ground not in spite but from his rush to get outside once more.

“Think Nico had fun with the kids tonight?” Taking another drink as your eyes shift about the room before landing on the small Christmas tree in the corner. The three of you had discussed it and the idea of having a small tree to enjoy had made each of you smile in turn. 

“I bet!” A laugh rang out around the room from the blond with enough force you could see his shoulders shaking. “He loves dressing up as jolly old Saint Nick for the kids this time of year.” A familiar look of wistful reminisce on his face as you can just imagine what Vash is thinking about, and as his blue eyes settle on you a tilt of his pointed chin that makes your heart do silly little flips in your chest. “The kids have an easy time figuring out it’s Nico, but the younger ones all buy that he’s just helping Santa out. The older kids help too in trying to make it as magical as they can, they can remember what it was like being little like that.” 

A thoughtful hum and you take another sip of coffee, parting your lips to ask a question only to hear the apartment door open. “Nico! We’re in the kitchen!” Calling out to him and turning to pour the dark-haired man a coffee for when he rejoins you.

“Did you have fun toni- Oh. Oh my.” The shift in Vash’s tone has you halting your actions and turning at the waist. Feeling your eyes go wide as your mind blanked at the sight in front of you. 

Nicholas.

Was still in his Santa suit.

The large black boots with the carefully tucked red pants, and a big red hat with a stark band of fluffy white placed upon his ebony locks. What had your attention, and no doubt Vash’s, was the jacket. 

Nice and red with its lovely white fluffy trim like clouds. That was held in place by a large black belt with a golden buckle. Perfectly covering his naval, and like a beacon leading your eyes to follow the start of a beautiful swath of tan skin that grew the higher you went. Almost his entire chest was on display and you felt as if you involuntarily swallowed, a slow measured blinking as you just kept staring.

“Umm Nico?” Somehow Vash is able to verbalize and you can see a smirk growing on Nicholas’s face, clearly, the third portion of your relationship planned this little reveal, and the idea of him thinking his teasing had left you both in the proverbial gutter wasn’t sitting right with you. 

Cup placed on the counter behind you and your senses returning you put on your best fake breathy voice. “Oh Santa! I wasn’t expecting you so soon!” A snap of Vash’s neck towards you with a wink sent in his direction as you started sashying towards Nicholas. “I’ve only been a naughty little girl this year.” 

Trying to keep your face neutral as it was your turn to see Nicholas’s adam’s apple bob no doubt taking in the cut of your clothes and how you weren’t looking at him like a gaping fool. Placing your hand on the side of his neck and sensually trailing your finger down the center of his chest, and feeling the hairs of his chest beneath the pad of the digit. “Maybe there’s something I can do so you don’t shove some coal down my stocking?” Pretending to whisper against his ear but never letting your voice go lower before nipping his earlobe. 

“This suits a rental Little bear but I need it off. Right. Now.” 

“Well if that’s what Saint Nicholas wants, I guess he can unwrap his presents tonight~” 

And here's the art

[moonstruckme]

OMGGGGGGG

the first kiss was so cute!!! perfect!! james was so sweet and gentle w her😍😭😭

can’t wait to see there dynamic from now on

Thank you gorgeous! I held onto this so I'd have something to post this last part to, hope you don't mind <3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

James is buzzing while he makes breakfast the next morning. Golden morning light pours in through the front windows, brightening the kitchen and warming his back where he stands in front of the stove, the buttery smell of pancake batter wafting up from the pan. He’d gone to bed later than usual last night and slept hard but woke jittery, desperate to do something about the commotion in his chest. 

A run hadn’t done it, nor had replaying the previous night in his head, and now he’s convinced he won’t be able to rest until he can kiss you again. It’s your fault, really. Your little sighs, your careful touches, the way you’d tugged at the roots of his hair when he asked you to, like all this time you’d only been waiting for permission. You’ve fucked him. James will never be able to get over it. Now, all he can think about is getting more. 

He’s made more pancakes than a family of five could eat when he hears the stair creak. 

“Good morning,” he says, turning around just as you pad into the kitchen, quiet as a ghost. 

Your eyes are bleary, but they still manage to widen slightly as you take him in, along with the precarious tower of pancakes beside him. You’re in that sweatshirt he loves so much, sleeves hanging limply from your hands and hem hitting just above your knees. 

“Morning,” you say, softer than soft. 

“How’d you sleep, lovely?” 

You shrug, not quite looking at him. “Fine. You?” 

James grins. “Beautifully. You want some pancakes?” 

Your gaze goes again to the stack beside him, and he can practically see the quip brewing in your eyes. Doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice. Are you planning to feed an army?

“Sure,” you say in that same quiet voice. “Thanks.” 

James studies you, intrigued. “Great. C’mere, sweetheart.” 

He plates up a few pancakes, keeping one eye on you as he does. You seem disinclined to look even in his general direction, finding distractions with the stove, your plate, the weather outside. 

“How’s this?” He turns around with the plate. You take it cautiously, by the complete opposite end to avoid any possibility of making contact with his hand. James’ heart warms at the way your fingers just peek out from the sleeve of your sweatshirt to grasp the plate. He wants to kiss you until you don’t know what day it is. “Too many? Not enough?” 

“This is good.” 

“Yeah?” He doesn’t let go of the plate. He tilts his head, trying to catch your eye, but you evade him. He has a hunch that if he were to touch your face (and god, does he want to) he’d find it burning hot. “Are you alright?” 

Your eyes flit up to his for a half a second before fleeing again. You hum, the sound tense and pitchy. “Mhm.” 

“You sure?” he asks, matching your soft tone. “Don’t go getting shy on me now.” 

You look like you stop breathing. 

And ordinarily James might feel bad, but post-kiss James cannot be prevailed upon to treat you as cautiously as he ordinarily might. Unfortunately for you, your secret’s out. You’re lovely, you’d said, voice soft and breathy and mere inches from his own mouth, I like having you around. I do. I really like you. Also unfortunately for you, post-kiss James knows things. 

He slips his palm alongside your face, working his hand behind your ear and letting his fingers burrow into the hair behind it. You melt, leaning into the touch. Your eyes meet his. 

It’s grueling work to keep from smiling. “What’s wrong, angel?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you say, still quietly but now with more of yourself in your voice. 

“Really? Because you’re acting like we’ve just met.” 

“Don’t you—don’t things feel different to you?” You seem almost distressed, eyebrows hooking upwards just slightly, pretty eyes imploring. Your voice softens again, now more with intimacy than reticence. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to talk with you about.” 

James lets his smile loose, thumbing at the skin behind your ear before letting you go. “We can talk about anything you want,” he says simply, grabbing his own plate and leading you into the living room. 

You’ve got a perfectly good kitchen table but almost never use it, each preferring to eat your meals on the couch. He flops down, careful not to tip his pancakes onto the cushion as he crosses his legs underneath him like you’re at a sleepover. 

“So, have any fun dreams last night?”  

You smile. It’s as heart-stoppingly lovely as always, and James thinks his own probably doubles in magnitude in response. 

“A couple,” you admit. 

“Oh? What about?” 

Your smile goes sheepish, bottom lip slipping in between your teeth as if to impede its progress. You fork clinks against the plate as you start cutting up your pancake. 

James’ brain short-circuits. 

“You were in my dream,” he blurts. 

Your eyes flit up to his warily. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah. It was one of those weird, super vivid dreams where nothing really happens, you know?” You seem to relax a bit. James douses his pancakes in syrup, starting to cut them up as he talks. “We were here, and someone had spilled something on the rug—probably Sirius, to be honest—and it made this huge stain. I’d tried to pour baking soda on it, but the whole box had collapsed and it got everywhere. We were both sitting right there scrubbing with literal toothbrushes, and I think I was worried you’d be upset with me but you were just laughing.” His heart warms at the pseudo-memory, the hazy feeling of contentment that had permeated the dream. The sound of your laugh, exactly as sweet as in real life. “Your hands were totally covered in baking soda, and the rug was ruined, but we were both laughing our heads off.” 

You’re smiling again, a small, knowing thing. “Had you said something to make us laugh?” 

“No,” he says honestly, “I think it was you.” 

James is aware that he’s barely functioning. It’s almost too much to talk and cut his pancakes at the same time while you’re looking at him like that, like he’s the loveliest thing you’ve ever seen. It makes it both a relief and a disappointment when you drop your gaze. 

“Do you think the stain might’ve been a premonition?” you ask. 

He raises his eyebrows. “How do you mean?” 

You laugh, and he’s instantly spellbound, caught somewhere between fantasy and reality. It takes him a second to realize you’re touching the edge of his plate, tipping it up. James looks down. It had been nearly falling off his lap, his pancakes cut up into tiny pieces and syrup pooled near the rim. 

You look up at him, seraphim with the morning light brightening your features and the hint of a smile playing on your lips. He thinks of how soft they’d felt on his the night before, the way they’d fallen open like welcoming him home. 

“You were almost spilling syrup onto the rug,” you say, that rare and beloved teasing lilt to your voice. “It would’ve taken more than baking soda to get that out.” 

“See?” he asks. “You know how to talk to me just fine.” 

You look surprised, then self-conscious, though not nearly as bad as when you’d come into the kitchen a few minutes ago. He covers your hand with his to keep you from going anywhere. Sets his plate on the coffee table. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Your eyes are wide. “Again?” 

“Yes, again,” James laughs. “And again after that, preferably. Only if it’s okay with you.” 

You shake your head, looking something akin to bewildered. “Yeah. Yeah, please.” 

He starts to lean toward you, and you meet him halfway. Already, it’s a bit different. There’s no tentative stillness, no slow yielding. Your lips are pliant and eager, parting and closing around his like you’re trying to get as much of him as you can. Your fingers wind in his hair without instruction, and James responds by placing his hand in that spot you’d seemed to like it so well last night, the material of your sweatshirt soft beneath his touch. You taste like his pancakes, the syrup sweet on your tongue. 

“Keep talking to me,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your lips worshipfully, “okay?” 

Your voice is breathless. “Why?” 

“Because I like you.” He tugs at you, wanting you closer. “And I think I’ve put in the work for you to warm up to me, if it’s all the same to you.” 

You make a tiny, amused sound. “Fine,” you say. You grow bolder, kissing your way up his cheek, the top of his eyebrow, until your nose is nestled in his hair and your lips are caressing his forehead. “Consider me warmed.” 

James grins, unable to help himself. He thinks that becoming your friend didn’t go quite as he planned, but he feels as though he won in the end.

[1d1195]

Independent

~10.6k words

From me: I know it's a long one, but it's a one-shot.

Warnings: angst, fluff. I've got about a thousand tropes in this one. Coworker Harry, Roommate Harry, love at first sight, he falls first and harder, one bed if you squint.

Summary: “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.

“Because of the cookies?”

“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”

She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”

Harry was tall, with soft brown locks that begged to have fingers run through them, and cool green eyes that reminded her of the sage green bridesmaid’s dress she wore to one of her friends’ weddings the year before. He wore a dark purple button down with sleeves rolled up revealing a bunch of tattoos on his left arm but only a few on the right. His voice was melodic. Smooth, like he was going to sing her a lullaby and warm like it could toast a marshmallow.

Her group chat with a couple of her office friends had been buzzing the moment Harry took residence at the desk across the aisle and one row ahead of her.

Holy fuck. Val texted. Office eye candy 😍

Do you hear that thundering sound? That’s my heart 😍 Rachel continued.

She smirked at the desks, shaking her head.

Don’t shake your head. Say something! At least you’re single, you have a chance! Val sent the messages in quick succession, making her desk partner, Hunter, look at her curiously each time it vibrated.

“Do you have an emergency?” He asked her.

She shook her head. “Nope,” she smiled. “Not at all.”

*

Harry met her and asked her out on the very first day he started his new job. They both worked in an office. Their desks only a short distance apart while they worked together. He assumed there were no rules against dating as there were several married couples within the office as he quickly found out from the shared last names and wedding photos of his coworkers lining one another’s desks.

It seemed, as long as it didn’t interfere with their work, there was no issue.

Which was fine by Harry.

He was happy to ogle her all day long and he would spoil her rotten outside of work. “Hi, m’Harry,” Harry took his opportunity to introduce himself when everyone else left for their lunch hour and she was finishing something up. Leaving them alone in the office. Harry analyzed her desk as quickly as he could.

Their office was wide open with desks back-to-back nearly identical on either side with a long aisle leading to the office of their boss at the back of the room. Her desk faced the front of the room while Harry’s faced his boss’ office. He was on the opposite side of the room, and he had a great view all day long to watch her profile as she worked. Her hair was half up, her beautiful eyes hidden behind glasses, and her mouth set in concentration as she focused on her tasks. He couldn’t see her whole body, but he watched her pull her sandy colored cardigan around her white shirt multiple times that morning, like she was chilled by the air conditioner. His eyes were drawn to her. Like she was a lighthouse, and he was out at sea. All he wanted to do was watch her, keep an eye on her, and admire how stunning she was.

She had a little plant near her window—a bunch of red poppies wrapped up in a burlap vase, tied with a red bow. He couldn’t tell if it was fake or not, but he suspected it was. There was a picture of a large group of friends right by her monitor where she was off to the side in it, one of her girlfriends had an arm around her. Her stationery was cool tones of blues, greens, and purples. Her handwriting was scribbled on a calendar in front of her and he thought the way she curved her L’s was loopy and pretty beyond belief and he wished he had one in his name just to see how it looked. But it made him want to know how she would write his name anyway. There was a date at the end of September that was marked with a heart and he wondered why. Was it an anniversary? A birthday? Or the day her favorite movie came out?

A book sat on the windowsill, and he wondered when she had the time to read it during the day or maybe it was a security blanket kind of thing. There were two paper trays stacked on top of one another to organize her work and sticky notes all over her monitor and desk with ideas, reminders, and even a couple that said things like, “we love you” and “you’re so sweet.”

“Hi, Harry,” she smiled up at him to introduce herself. “Welcome to the team, are you having a good first day?”

He nodded, smiled a little brighter and dove right in. “I think m’in love with you,” she released a laugh that was so unbelievably beautiful Harry thought it sealed the deal. “I wouldn’t laugh, kitten. M’serious,” he frowned with faux sadness. He knew he was being a tad bit ridiculous. Maybe it wasn’t right to say it while they were alone, but he didn’t want to say it in front of everyone either. Hopefully he could convince her he was harmless, even if what he said was true.

Her cheeks reddened and she smiled. “That’s... very forward,” she reminded him. “And you don’t know me.”

“I know,” he rubbed the back of his head. “I was going t’hold off on saying it until tomorrow, but m’unable t’contain it. You’re very beautiful and everyone seems t’go t’you when they need help, so I imagine you’re a lovely person,” he pointed at the sticky note that said we love you once more. She snickered again and looked away covering one cheek with her hand. “M’going t’go t’lunch before I embarrass myself further, but I jus’ wanted to tell you,” he shrugged, stuffed his hands in his pockets and turned toward the exit.

“Nice meeting you Harry,” she called after him a smile on her lips.

He grinned and turned briefly to wave before he exited. “Don’t forget t’eat, kitten,” he called.

*

But now that Harry admitted he was in love with her, she couldn’t help but feel like she was being watched while she worked. Her eyes darted to his side of the room often trying to see if he was staring at her. He wasn’t each time which only made her feel guilty and worse. Maybe her standoffish disposition deterred him rapidly. It was probably for the best, anyway. For a lot of reasons.

Was it disappointment she was feeling from his lack of attention? That didn’t seem right.

“Harry!” Val called from behind her. “Are you enjoying your first day?”

“Immensely,” did his eyes drift over to her and her desk? She stared at her screen pretending to work while she listened.

“Did you just move to town?” Rachel was much further towards the front of the room. He turned to give her his full attention. It made her heart skip a beat with how kind it was. His politeness was a massive turn on.

Even if she wasn’t going to let herself admire Harry from across the way just because they worked together.

“I did, m’actually looking for a place t’live if y’know of any places. M’at a hotel until m’on m’feet.”

Her heart started beating about two hundred times a minute because she knew what was going to happen before it did. She could feel the bubbling excitement from her friends on either end of the room. “Mary Poppins has a room!” Rachel shouted.

Her cheeks turned bright red.

“Her roommate just moved in with her boyfriend like last week! How perfect is that, Mary? You were all worried about finding a normal roommate. I even did his background check, so I know he’s good to go!”

Harry chuckled. “Um... who’s Mary Poppins?”

The whole office giggled. “Miss Poppins, did you not introduce yourself?” Someone else called. Hunter snickered across from her and she glared at him.

This was mortifying. Wasn’t this supposed to be a mortifying day for Harry? His first day and all? How come she was being teased? She took a deep breath and turned from her monitor to make direct eye contact with Harry who was already looking at her. Like he knew exactly who Mary Poppins was without his coworkers needing to tell him. “It’s a two-bedroom apartment. One bath. There’s a nice kitchen, all new appliances.”

Harry’s jaw dropped as she spoke. Like he was surprised it really was her. “Val looks like she’s going to bounce out of her seat,” Hunter smirked as he whispered under his breath to her while she tried not to panic at the thought of living with someone so unbelievably attractive and just admitted he was in love with her.

“Tell him about your living room!” Val sounded like she was bouncing.

“Water’s included.”

“She’s the cutest interior designer. It’s so homey it feels like a warm hug when you walk in. Like living with a rom-com character,” Rachel continued.

“Rent would be about twelve hundred,” she ignored her so-called friends.

“She bakes something once a week too, so it always smells like sugar and Christmas. It’s seriously the coziest place I’ve ever been,” Val kept going.

“In-unit washer and dryer.”

“Then she brings whatever she makes for all of us here to devour. It’s incredible,” Rachel’s sentiment was answered with a hum of agreement from the rest of her coworkers. She even heard someone say remember her apple turnover pastries?

“You get your own parking spot,” she tilted her head and looked at the ceiling to see if there was anything else she had forgotten. “I think that’s it,” she met Harry’s eyes once more, holding his gaze briefly before she turned back to her monitor.

“Harry you should totally move in, you will fall in love with the place.”

“M’sure I would,” he chuckled. “Could I see it sometime?” He asked. His attention never strayed from her face. She could sense his gaze on the side of her cheek the whole time her friends embarrassed the crap out of her. “Whenever you’re free. Doesn’t have t’be today.”

“Today’s fine!” Rachel assured him. “She doesn’t do anything on Mondays.”

She rolled her eyes. “Today is fine,” she repeated and smiled sweetly. She scribbled on a sticky note and headed to his desk to drop the address off with him. Then she made her way toward the restroom because she needed to get out of the room. Needed away from everyone teasing her good-naturedly.

But mostly so she could keep herself from telling Harry that she was quite, very possibly, in love with him as well.

*

True to her friends’ words, the place was cozy as hell. There was a basket of throw blankets next to a sofa that looked like it was comfier than his bed currently in his storage unit. Artwork dotted the walls, board games stowed below her TV, and curtains pulled back from the windows letting in the afternoon sunlight. It felt like a home.

There were three boxes in the middle of the living room between the coffee table and the TV, but it was otherwise spotless. “You’re very clean.”

She nodded. “I know, I’m sorry.”

He chuckled. “Y’don’t need t’apologize,” he put his hands in his pockets, so he didn’t do something crazy like hold her hand.

“I don’t want you to think I’m crazy, is all. You can be... messy... I won’t have a freak out or anything. Unless you leave food in the sink then we get bugs. Then I’ll be kind of freaked out.”

He laughed. “I wouldn’t do that. I like t’think m’pretty clean myself,” he assured her. “I also...” he took a deep breath and rubbed the back of his head. “Y’friends kinda put y’on the spot. I know what I admitted at lunch was kinda out of... out of the blue,” he bit his lip. “Y’don’t have t’feel obligated t’house me.”

“I don’t,” she promised. “I need a roommate and like Val said,” she shrugged. “She did your background check so I assume you won’t kill me, probably. At least not because you’re a serial killer. Maybe because I’m too clean.”

He shook his head with a smile on his lips making the most adorable dimple dent his cheek. She wanted to stick her tongue in it. “Thank you, m’really appreciative.”

She smiled. “You’re welcome, Harry. Sorry we’ll be around each other a lot.”

That didn’t seem like a bad thing at all. “I think it’ll be okay. We didn’t really talk much today,” he shrugged. “If y’get sick of me, m’sure I can find another place t’live,” he winked.

She rolled her eyes. “Won’t be necessary. But okay,” she sighed. “You can move in whenever,” she grabbed her keys from the breakfast bar where she ate most of her meals and pulled a key off the ring and handed it to him. “I have a second job some nights, but if you give me a heads up, I can help you move your stuff.”

“S’very kind of you, kitten, but y’don’t need t’do that. M’not going t’have all that much stuff. M’friend Louis lives not too far from here. He’ll come help me.”

“Offer stands,” she assured him.

Harry’s eyes scanned the room again and landed on the three boxes once more. “Are those your old roommate’s boxes?” He asked.

She nodded. “Two of them. I’m supposed to bring them to her, but they’re super heavy so I’m like... working up my mental and physical strength to bring them to my car. It’s going to be two trips and I’m just being a little lazy about it.”

“I can bring them down,” he grabbed one. It was definitely heavy. It was evident Harry had defined biceps and triceps practically outlined by the pretty purple button down, but it was manageable for him while a struggle for her. “Still probably two trips,” he nodded.

“Oh, I can take—”

“No, no,” he shook his head. “Don’t want you t’hurt yourself. Let me,” he offered and snagged her car keys off the counter.

“Oh, thank you that’s... thank you,” she swallowed, feeling grateful.

“Not a problem,” he assured her and left immediately.

When he returned after putting the second box in her car to return her keys, she had opened the third box and begun laying out a bunch of fall items to decorate their place. “Do you mind decorations?”

“Of course not,” he smiled. “Can I help?”

She blinked at him and tilted her head. “Um... I can handle it. If you need to pack or go... get dinner or something.”

“M’fine,” he smiled, setting her keys on the counter and glanced around the room. He noted there were hooks screwed into the wall at various points. “Can I hang something for you? M’good for height.”

Harry wasn’t that much taller than her, she was definitely taller than the average woman, but it still meant she needed to drag out a stepstool when she wanted to put up her art and decorations. “That would be awesome,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

“Not a problem, kitten,” he smiled.

*

Harry had a dreamy smile on his face as they talked and got to know one another. He hadn’t brought up that he was in love with her. Nor did he make her feel the least bit uncomfortable. Like it had never happened.

Why did it feel like she was disappointed about the prospect of that?

Maybe he wasn’t in love with her. Maybe the initial reaction of seeing someone roughly the same age as him at work made his senses a bit wild for a moment.

No. She wasn’t disappointed. Everything about Harry being in love with her would be a recipe for disaster and it was for the best that he didn’t fall in love with her.

It was just something a little bit out of the blue to say to the only person who was single in the office. Everyone had a significant other they had met within the office or elsewhere. She was the last single person. The same was true with her friend group as well. Everyone in her life had been paired off except for her.

He was her coworker. He was going to be her roommate.

But right as he left, he sent her heart into a frenzy. They were by the door. She wanted to make sure he got to his car safely even though it was a safe neighborhood. It was just the way she was. “Will you go on a date with me?” He asked.

She stared at him in shock, her lips parting like she was mid-sentence, and he had interrupted. “Seriously?” She giggled reflexively, but her cheeks felt hot. They had a lovely evening together getting to know each other. Harry helped with all the decorations and yes, in its own way it was a bit intimate. But he couldn’t possibly think that it was a good idea to date his roommate.

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Harry, I can’t date my roommate.”

“Pretty sure s’how most rom-coms start,” he smiled. “S’okay. I’ll ask again later. Have a nice night,” he grinned with a wave and walked toward his car. Leaving her jaw slack, as she watched her roommate head off into the night.

*

Harry moved in later that week. He asked her to come with him to his storage unit to see if there was anything she would want in the apartment, but she had pretty much everything. It seemed silly to bring a double of everything when she owned all of it already.

But Harry would forever be grateful and indebted to his sister for her kindness as he watched her examine some of his belongings. One in particular caught her eye making him think that he had won the lottery with how excited she was.

She couldn’t believe Harry had a stand mixer and she was nearly in awe of all the attachments to help bake and cook easier. “I’ve always wanted one of these. They’re so expensive,” she blinked. “How do you have one?”

“M'sister got one when she got married,” he explained. “But she doesn’t bake and said it was taking up space in her kitchen.”

“Can we bring it to the apartment? Do you mind?”

The way her eyes lit up at the sight of it? Pure joy and happiness? Yeah. It was going to the apartment. If he ever moved out, he would probably leave it with her too just so she could always look that happy. “Course. Anything else?”

She looked around the organized storage room sifting through the items in different bins while Harry searched for some of his own trinkets that he thought he would want after his initial move. His room and bathroom items had already been moved in with the help of Louis. “This is stunning,” her voice full of awe once more, grabbing a print from behind a shelf. Harry wasn’t sure where it was from. He thought his mum purchased it to make his old place feel like home. “This would look amazing in the living room.”

“Bring it,” he smiled. She tucked it under her arm and continued searching. Harry grabbed a few more odds and ends and she plucked out a few more things she thought would work with the apartment’s décor and mainly helpful kitchen tools.

“It’s your place too, Harry,” she reminded him. “Is there anything you want there?”

He smiled, shook his head. “Y’seem t’have everything, kitten. M’not picky.”

“I don’t want you to feel like a guest,” she pouted. “Like you should bring these,” she gestured to pictures of his friends and family in a bin. “I can move some of mine to my room so you can put them up.”

He grinned. “Sure,” he shrugged. “If y’think s’what I should do.”

“Alright, could we come back in a few weeks and see if there’s anything else you want once you’re settled a bit?”

“Course.”

They gathered as much as they could, Harry would have to come back for the stand mixer. Harry closed the trunk and moved to open the passenger door for her before her hand fully pulled it out of the way. He waited until she was tucked into the seat safely and he handed her the car keys. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll be here,” she smiled.

“Hey kitten,” he said leaning against the door before he left. “Will y’go on a date with me?”

“Harry,” she laughed the same way she did the last time he asked her. The same way she laughed when he told her he was in love with her. “You can’t be serious!”

“Deadly,” he smiled at the delight on her face. The pretty pink color rising to her cheeks. “Will you?”

“I can’t go on a date with you, Harry,” she looked at him with a bit of sympathetic pity. Like he was ridiculous for asking. Again. Which he was.

“Then I’ll ask again another time,” he shrugged, closed her car door, and headed to get the stand mixer that made her happy.

*

“Hey Poppy, did y’want t’go get lunch with me?” Her eyes didn’t move from her screen. “Poppy,” he repeated. “Poppy,” he sang. She glanced around and realized she was the only one in the room.

“Me?”

He chuckled. “Yes, you.”

Her eyebrows pinched together. “Why did you call me Poppy?”

“Well, m’assuming s’your favorite flower,” it was a safe bet since there was a small bouquet right beside her. “Also, everyone else calls y’Mary, Poppins, or Miss Poppins. Which I still don’t know why, but I wanted t’be different. Want you t’know s’me when y’hear me talking t’you.”

Her heart raced. Harry was utterly adorable. “I see. Sorry,” she smirked.

“Anyway,” he came over to stand by her desk. “Do y’want t’get lunch?”

“Harry, I told you I don’t date.”

“M’not asking as a date. M’asking as your coworker who has never seen y’eat a bite of food while you’re at work. M’asking as your concerned roommate who worries y’don’t eat until y’get home for dinner. And I don’t even want t’think ‘bout how long y’go without eating when you’re at your second job.”

She smiled at his thoughtfulness. “I don’t go out to lunch with everyone,” she explained. “I don’t know if you noticed, but people always seem to need me while I’m here,” she gestured to her desk. “Lunch is the only time I get a minute to myself. And I can get caught up a bit before the afternoon and everyone comes back.”

“Well do you bring lunch?” He asked, his frown deepening still worried she wasn’t eating.

“I do, it’s in the breakroom. I’ll get it in a minute,” she promises. “Go, you’re wasting your lunch hour.”

“Okay,” he sighed. He stopped in the doorway of the entrance to the office. “Hey Poppy,” he smiled.

“Yeah?” She asked without looking up from her screen.

“Now that y’mention it though, will y’go out with me?”

*

At home, Harry took the trash out because he said it was a boy-job and she shouldn’t be out in the dark by a dumpster. It made his skin crawl just to think about it. He made her promise that she wouldn’t take out the trash and he didn’t mind if he had to go out twice in one day. She thought it was ridiculous. But she agreed.

He cleaned up after himself checking with her to see if it was up to her standard. Even though she assured him he didn’t have to meet her standard. His cologne overtook their bathroom, and it was so comforting she took long hot showers at night just to amplify the scent filling her nose. Harry stretched across the sofa and scrolled through various show options but often didn’t find something that piqued his interest. Instead, he would put on some background noise and read on an eReader. His eyebrows pinched together in concentration.

Harry bought groceries and didn’t ask for any money from them. “M’sure you’ll buy stuff too,” he shrugged. Plus, she already had all the cleaning supplies, laundry detergent, dishwasher pods, and the like. Harry hardly had anything useful so buying groceries was the least he could do.

Except the stand mixer. People moaned about her cookies. Harry got to see her make them firsthand and the very scene with an apron around her body, her smile bright as she tested various stages of the dough, it did wonders for Harry. Some kind of nearly pornographic idea that only Harry would think was pornographic. “Will you try one?” She asked, hope in her voice.

Was he supposed to say no to her? Absolutely not. So, he tried one. “Go on a date with me,” he groaned.

“Because of the cookies?”

“No! Well, yes. Right now, yes, because of the cookies. But s’not usually because of cookies.”

She laughed. “I don’t date, Harry.”

He frowned, faking his disappointment (although he was the slightest bit disappointed). “I’ll try again,” he shrugged and took three more cookies from her cooling rack before returning to the sofa to read.

*

“Mary!” Val sang. “Do you have the stain stick?” She called from behind. She opened a drawer, eyes unmoving from her screen and held it out behind her for it to be passed back by her other coworkers. Harry chuckled.

It killed her that she knew his chuckle without looking. “S’impressive,” he murmured quietly. But she could hear it from across the way.

“That’s nothing,” Rachel said from the other end of the room. “Miss Poppins,” she smiled delightedly. “I have a missing button,” she told her.

That was the other drawer, a small little sewing kit to fix a button.

“Hair tie!” Someone called from the other side of the room.

“Lint roller!”

They all called out items and she had every single one.

“Do you have anything stronger to put in this coffee?” Their boss was walking up the aisle and paused at her desk. She smirked, opened the bottom drawer and placed a mini bottle of liquid on the edge of the desk. The whole office laughed as he snatched it and headed to his office. “You’re getting a raise, Poppins,” he called.

Hunter turned to look at Harry. “I gave her the nickname,” he explained.

“I get it,” he chuckled.

“If you need it, chances are she has it.”

“If she doesn’t, she adds it,” Val explained.

Her smile was soft. Harry thought it was sweet how her coworkers adored her. It was clear she was loved by them. Her thoughtfulness was admirable. Harry wondered how he was supposed to top that. No wonder she didn’t want to go out with him. Why would she want to go out with anyone when she was ten times sweeter than anyone she knew?

*

Her best friend Josephine (Joey) was helping her in the bathroom when Harry got home from the gym one Friday evening. “Holy hell you said he was cute, not hot,” she gaped.

“Aw, y’think m’cute, Poppy?” He asked winking at her. Her cheeks flushed red, making it so she didn’t need any of the blush she was putting on her cheeks. He leaned against the doorframe; arms crossed over his chest. He was sweaty and really wanted to get in the shower, but he didn't mind a bit of time to stare at his sweet roommate.

“I should have known. Only a man that uses such high-end cologne would be this hot.”

“Didn’t you buy Matt high-end cologne?”

“Hence why I think he’s so hot,” Joey beamed. Her friend laughed quietly, shaking her head as she finished with her makeup.

“Sorry Harry, we’ll be out of the way in a minute.”

“Take y’time. M’not in a rush.”

“Oh, you should come out!” Joey squealed. “Harry, please! She’s always by herself keeping an eye on us it would be nice to have someone keep her company!”

“Thanks, Mom. I don’t need a babysitter,” she rolled her eyes. “No offense, Harry.”

“S’okay,” he chuckled. “I don’t want t’impose. Plus m’in need of a shower.”

“Don’t let us stop you,” Joey smiled widely gesturing to the shower.

“Can you not?” She rolled her eyes and looked at Harry with apologetic eyes.

He laughed again and shook his head. “Y’can call if y’need something,” he assured her.

“Harry, please come out! You can meet us there!” Joey said again.

She looked at him with a soft smile. A look in her eyes said he wasn’t going to get out of it. Not if he didn’t have a really good reason. But truthfully? He didn’t need a reason to get out of it. Spending time with her outside of work, outside of the apartment, and errands like the grocery store and running to the post office had him excited to see her in another frame of light. Did she let loose? He would love to dance with her. Even if it was only as friends, roommates, fuck as coworkers even. How did she act around her friends versus her coworkers? God, he was obsessed.

“I can wait for you,” she suggested, her voice soft. Harry smiled.

“Thanks, Poppy.”

*

Her eyes scanned for her friends as she sat on a stool at a high top beside Harry. It was like watching a teacher on a field trip counting heads to make sure everyone was still present. The table was littered with drinks all of which she minded just as intently.

Harry just gazed at her as he sipped his drink. He helped as needed pushing drinks toward her friends as they came back from dancing. “Y’don’t dance?”

“Oh...maybe later. I’m not very good,” she admitted. “I like dancing with Joey because she’s worse than me.”

She caught the eye of one of her friends, Hailey, approaching and she reached into her purse strapped around the front of her for something. Harry watched as Hailey made it to her. “Thanks Mary,” she gushed taking the bandage from her and made her way for the bathroom. It was pretty wild she could anticipate whatever her friends needed. It was like at work. Harry was a bit awestruck and looked at her with a surprised expression. She shrugged and continued sipping her drink.

Jaylen was next. Joey’s twin brother; they had the same facial expressions--mainly the smile that Joey had on her face when she suggested Harry shower in front of her and his favorite person.

The same smile appeared on his face and told Harry he was going to say something just as delightful as Joey had said of Harry. Sure enough, Jaylen draped an arm around her and leaned into her ear to whisper something over the sound of the music. She rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. His face turned serious and he whispered something again.

She frowned. Then reached into her purse again. Out came a tampon which he slid discreetly into his pocket and then she glanced at his outfit twisting her lips to the side in disappointment.

After a brief thought, she pulled her purse over her body and laid it on the table. The long cardigan she wore came off next, leaving her in a black tank top that tucked into her jeans. It hugged her curves like a glove making Harry’s mouth water and he glanced away worried he would look like a creep. He finished his beer before Jaylen grinned and thanked her profusely and walked away. She took a deep breath and put her purse back into position before wrapping one arm in front of he protectively, gripping the front of her shoulder.

“Are y’cold?” He asked.

She shook her head.

But Harry was sitting beside her. He could see the goosebumps on her skin. She selflessly gave her sweater to her friend for whatever reason (Harry wasn’t totally sure, but he suspected it was menstrual related). But she was going to pretend like she wasn’t cold? Harry was definitely in love. In case it wasn’t obvious by the moment he met her. Boldly, Harry reached below her bar stool and tugged it toward him. She jostled a bit but he maintained her balance. Then he draped his arm around her body pulling her toward him further and he couldn’t help but notice she didn’t pull away. She didn’t make a sound and her facial expression didn’t change.

But Harry felt her body relax into his side, her head dipping ever so slightly toward his shoulder. He smiled softly and brought his lips closer to her ear so she could hear. “Y’don’t have t’lie t’me, Poppy. M’your roommate and all. I know y’like the apartment a toasty temperature.”

She smirked and tilted her head up. Their eyes connected, their mouths only two inches apart. “Thank you,” she said kindly.

Harry really enjoyed holding her.

*

At the end of the night, she rounded up her friends ensuring those who said they could drive actually could and if they couldn’t she called for Ubers until everyone was safely on their way home. Jaylen’s girlfriend, Maya, had her green sweater wrapped around her white pants. She thanked her profusely, drunkenly.

Joey and Matt waved goodbye. “Bye Hot Roommate,” Joey called waving to Harry specifically.

“Jesus, Joey,” Matt rolled his eyes. “Nice meeting you Harry,” he called.

Once everyone was gone, she rubbed her hands on her arms to keep the blood flowing and warming her skin. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders again and tucked her into his side as they headed for her parked car a couple blocks away. “Go on a date with me," he spoke straight forward. Hoping if he didn't look, it wouldn't seem like as a massive deal--almost like he would trick her into a date.

She elbowed him. “I can’t go out with a coworker, Harry. Or my roommate for that matter.”

He shrugged. “I’ll ask later,” he boldly kissed the top of her head. Fortunately, she didn't seem to mind. Harry was sure to keep that in his head for future reference. He would most definitely be kissing her again. “You’re an extremely sweet girl, Poppy. Selfless, lovely, kind,” he listed. “Whoever y’end up with, m’going t’be very jealous,” he assured her.

She snorted and laughed quietly under her breath. “Thank you, Harry.”

*

For months it continued with similar routines, feelings, and questions. They grew closer as friends. At work he admired her from his desk from across the office. When she didn’t go to lunch, he reminded her to eat and not work too hard. At home, he grumbled that her loophole of taking the trash out in the daytime was not the point of his promise. He still bought groceries each week trying to figure out all the things she enjoyed eating.  

He helped her clean the apartment and when it was getting cooler outside, she asked to join him at the gym. Her outfits were cute and made guys stare at her as she worked out, unbeknownst to her. She asked for help from Harry which made him feel like he won an Olympic medal. His face was smug as the men in the gym finally stopped looking at her. Thinking Harry was lucky enough to be hers.

It made him happy to help her figure out new machines and with her sets of weightlifting (even though she didn’t like it).

Everywhere they went, people ogled her. She was so kind. Little kids would smile at her in grocery store lines and wave like it was a game of peekaboo. Dogs tugged on their leashes hoping to get a pet from her around the loop she ran in the neighborhood. Their elderly next door neighbor tried telling her a hundred times that she had a grandson her age and he would love to date her (that one drove Harry the most crazy).

She had her head leaning in her palm as she watched the stand mixer beat the brownie ingredients like it was the most interesting thing in the world. But Harry was watching her; so he was, in fact, watching the most interesting thing in the world.

He leaned against the wall just beside the kitchen entrance. “Poppy?” He asked. She looked up at him. “Go on a date with me, please," his expression soft.

She was finally getting used to it. She gave herself a lot of credit. It was pretty crazy she hadn’t caved yet. Harry was so lovely. Not to mention attractive. At the gym, his muscles rippled and glistened with sweat. The outline of every abdominal muscle was sinful. It was a miracle she didn’t drop her own weights or fall on the treadmill when she caught sight of him. It drove her crazy that the women there gazed at him longingly; like he was something to eat. But was she really any better?

She smiled, the blush on her cheeks still prominent, but not as deep. She was used to her heart skipping a beat, the butterflies fluttering in her stomach each time he asked. “That's very sweet, Harry. But I don’t date.”

It was six months since he met her when he finally asked. “Why not?”

She shrugged. He thought she wasn’t going to say anything more, so he frowned, sighed, and headed for the living room to get back to his book. “I just don’t date, Harry. I like being friends,” she told him.

He grumbled something about still being friends even if they dated but she either didn’t hear or pretended not to hear. Either way, it was quiet for a few beats. “If I hadn’t told you I was in love with you that first day, would that have changed your answer?”

She giggled and shook her head. “No.”

“Okay,” he shrugged. Ever determined. He smiled widely at her. “I’ll keep asking then.”

*

When she got dressed up for a family wedding and clicked down the hall in heels and a dress that flowed over her like she was the bride (only wearing green of course, not white). Her hair was curled and pinned so prettily Harry thought he was seeing a real angel in the flesh. “Oh, come on, Poppy,” he groaned and covered his eyes with his hand dramatically. “S’not fighting fair,” he frowned.

She grinned, her cheeks warming more than they had in a while. “I look okay?”

“Stunning,” he grumbled. “M’so jealous I won’t get t’dance with you,” he pouted.

She shook her head. “I don’t usually dance at weddings when I go alone,” she explained.

“Well, y’should’ve told me. I would’ve been your date.”

“Harry—”

“Platonic date,” he rolled his eyes. “This is worse than when y’wore that pencil skirt t’work,” he reminded her. She snickered and shook her head while she looked at her phone. She sucked her lip into her mouth and sighed wincing slightly and then turned to her room again. After several minutes she returned in a different dress. She was equally stunning, but she looked a little forlorn. “An outfit change?”

She nodded. “Yeah,” she shrugged. “My sister is wearing green.”

Harry frowned. “So?”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I just...” she shrugged. “It’s alright. I like this dress just fine.”

But it wasn’t green. She looked so pretty in green. It complimented her skin tone so perfectly. She looked stunning. Like she was a queen. “But—”

“Seriously, Harry. It’s fine.”

The muted purple dress looked lovely on her as well. But Harry thought the green made her look otherworldly. He wanted the happiness back in her eye. The light that sparked when he complimented her. “Well when can y’wear it?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Season’s almost over for a wintergreen like that,” she shrugged. “Maybe next year.”

Harry frowned. But then he had a wonderful idea to help both her dress and himself. “Go on a date with me, Poppy.”

The smile reappeared on her face, and she shook her head. “I can’t, Harry.”

“Please? Do it for the sake of that dress,” he pleaded. “We don’t even have t’call it a date. An outing. An adventure. Whatever y’want. Y’jus’ need t’wear it before y’can’t.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Harry. But I can’t.”

He sighed. “You’re welcome, Poppy.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow? I’ll steal you a cupcake. I heard they come from this bakery that I love and if it doesn’t make it home to you, then we’re going to have to go there anyway.”

It didn’t replace a date. But he liked the way she smiled. And going to a bakery together was inherently a couple-y thing to do. So he would take what he could get.

“Sure, Poppy. I’d love to.”

*

She didn’t need people. Needing people had only ever broken her heart. She never asked for help ever. Well...only when they were at the gym but that was a safety thing more than anything.

Even when she should have asked.

Harry didn’t notice until he drove her to a house party that her friends didn’t invite her too. She was sleepy, it was obvious. Leggings, oversized sweater. Her hair was braided loosely and falling apart because she had woken in the middle of the night to answer a message. Harry was in the middle of a good book. Unable to put it down when she ventured into the living room. A yawn falling from her lips. Her eyes barely open. It took several questions and repeated convincing to let him drive her since he was awake, and it looked like she was going to pass out while standing.

Harry insisted on coming in even as she told him to stay in the car, but he refused. She found her friends, her voice was soft as she encouraged Jaylen to leave. A little over his limit and Joey and Maya were about just as gone and unable to convince Jaylen to go with them. A guy from across the room made a joke about Mommy coming to save him. As her pugnacious friend made a turn to deal with the offensive person, she stopped him. She was quick, grabbed his arm, and held tight.

When they returned to the apartment she corralled her friends into their sleeping arrangements. Maya and Jaylen in her bed, Joey on the sofa. “Sorry I took your reading spot,” she whispered as she tucked a blanket around Joey. She snagged another blanket and curled into the only other chair in the living room. “Thank you for driving,” she smiled, closing her sleepy eyes.

“You’re gonna sleep there?” He asked. She nodded, barely moving. Like she was already half-way to dreaming. Harry snagged her out of the chair, cradling her and bringing her to his room.

“Harry,” she protested.

“We’re grown adults,” he reminded her. “We can share a bed without it being weird. S’like a hotel room.”

“Harry,” she repeated, her objection evident in her tone. “I can’t—”

“M’not letting y’sleep in a chair or on the floor. So, it’s m’bed or y’aren’t sleeping,” he shrugged.

She sighed. Too tired to oppose any further, thankfully. Harry laid her atop the covers and draped another blanket over her. He went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and slid beneath his sheets and glanced at the sleeping angel beside him. He smiled. He liked the way she looked in his bed. Liked the way she seemed comfortable and sleepy beside him. His bed felt warm with her beside him. Even though she wasn’t touching him. She smelled good in his room too.

“Night, Harry,” she mumbled.

“Good night, Poppy,” he answered, reached out, squeezed her hand before releasing it so she wouldn’t break a piece of his heart by telling him they shouldn’t.

It was easy to fall asleep with her beside him.

It was even easier to dream of her with her intoxicating presence in his room as well.

*

Harry noticed how drained she seemed when the weather continued to get warmer. Her friends all had birthdays around the same time, and she was a mess of scheduling and reserving birthday dinners and planning things for all of them. Did Harry miss her birthday? He would have to ask. He hoped he didn’t. He hoped her friends would take the time to plan for her the way she did for them.

Work was approaching a busy season, and everyone kept coming to her more and more throughout the day. He could see the anxiety on her face as her growing to-do list looked nearly unmanageable. Harry tried to go to others if he had issues. But every time he asked someone else a question, they called out for Mary Poppins, and she would glance up and look at Harry with a sad smile asking how she could help.

Harry was worried she wasn’t eating her lunch. When everyone else left, her eyes were hidden behind those glasses, her face concentrating and relieved for the reprieve from people calling her name for help with work or needing something like a pen or a screwdriver. Sometimes Harry hated his job. Not because it was difficult. But it seemed like everyone in the office was incompetent. Or weaponizing their incompetence and foisting their tasks onto the lovely woman who would never say no to them.

Her friends did it too. With all the planning and such.

The poor thing looked exhausted. She didn’t join Harry at the gym and her second job seemed like the only time she got to herself. “I miss reading,” she grumbled when she got home late from her shift. She kicked her shoes off and flopped onto the opposite end of the sofa. “My eyes are exhausted though,” she rubbed them for good measure. “I think I would fall asleep if I tried to read. I think I need to wake up earlier and read.”

Harry snorted. “Don’t burn yourself out, Poppy,” he rolled his eyes. “What are y’reading?”

“I’ve been trying t’read this book for months,” she pulled it from the shelf below the coffee table. He had seen it tucked there for a while. He grabbed it from her, skimmed the back of the book, and opened to the first chapter.

Then, he started reading.

Out loud.

“Harry,” she whispered her eyes wide.

“Yeah?” He asked, pointing at the sentence where he stopped and looked at her curiously. “M’starting over, because I want t’know what’s happening,” he smiled. Her face looked so shocked and confused. Sad even. Like she didn’t know what emotion she was supposed to feel.

“You don’t have to—”

He shook his head, and continued reading before she could finish her sentence.

Harry read three chapters before he carried her sleeping self to bed.

*

Something changed in Harry. He almost turned into a stalker. He tracked her movements and routines for a week. He knew most of them. But he really tracked them. The daily ones were easiest. She went for a run in the morning, he followed her lead and didn’t say a word. He went to her favorite coffee shop and paid for her favorite drink for a week’s worth of drinks in advance.

He wished they carpooled, but she was so busy. So he timed his arrival so that he was at the entrance door holding it open for her. When everyone left to get lunch, he heated up her food and brought it to her desk before leaving silently.

One day, there was a note on her dashboard saying she had a full tank of gas. When she arrived home after her second job, she noted her spare car key was on Harry’s key ring. At home, her laundry was in the wash. The shirts she didn’t like to put in the dryer were hung in the bathroom.

Harry could see it. She was cracking. It was the first time someone had done something for her it seemed. The first time someone so selflessly did things for her, anticipated her needs the way she anticipated everyone else’s.

Her throat felt tight as she looked at Harry in the kitchen, making her favorite dinner—a soup that took hours and hours to make.

He didn’t even know it was her birthday that day which made her heart feel sicker than ever.

“Poppy,” he smiled sweetly placing a bowl in front of her exhausted figure.

“Yeah?” She whispered.

If she wasn't so in awe, she would have realized where his tone was. What was coming next. “Go on a date with me, kitten.”

“I can’t.”

“S’not so hard,” he assured her. “You sit across from me and be yourself because m’already in love with you,” he reminded her sweetly. An impish grin on his pretty pink lips. That dimple she wanted to sink her tongue into on display. “I tell y’how stunning y’look, I pay for you t’eat. I feed you a dessert of your choosing that you’re probably too full t’eat and then I can kiss you wherever y’want. Lips, cheek, forehead,” he shrugged. “Then we come home, and I’ll read a chapter of your book. Y’can decide if y’want t’go on a second date.”

She giggled, her cheeks red. “I can’t, Harry,” she looked at him apologetically, but she felt herself melting as much as the soup warmed her insides. It was ridiculous to eat soup in the middle of the summer. But Harry made it for her anyway.

His heart deflated a little. He wasn't kidding. He was definitely in love. He had to be because there was no other way he could explain the feelings he had for her. Someone so thoughtful, so pretty, sweet, and funny.

Harry had asked her out at least a hundred times. Around Christmas, she got her hair cut and he always found her beautiful, but he asked her almost every day following her new hair style for a month straight. Each time she said she couldn't. She didn't date.

For the first time in the near year since he had first asked her, first met her, he realized she said she can’t go on a date with him. She didn’t date. That he was crazy.

Not that she didn’t want to. She didn’t say no.

Hope bloomed inside him.

*

She didn’t need anything. She didn’t need anybody. It was clear someone or maybe many had let her down so many times. He watched her doing everything she could to make this party as nice as humanly possible for Hailey. Not that Hailey didn’t deserve it, but no one had done anything like this for her. Harry only found out it was her birthday after the fact, and he felt like shit for it. Even though she assured him that was one of the best birthdays she ever had.

All he did was make her soup.

She deserved so much more.

It almost seemed too obvious that they hadn’t done anything for her remotely as lovely as she did.

“You’re staring, Styles,” she murmured without looking up from the chair while he lounged on the sofa.

“Go on a date with me,” he smiled.

She blushed, shook her head. “You’re crazy.”

“You haven’t said no.”

"I've said no about a hundred thousand times, Harry," she rolled her eyes.

Why was it now? Why did he want to tell her what he was thinking about the whole situation now? But it was in his chest. He had to say it. Had to tell her.

“No, you’ve never said no,” he shook his head and looked at her head on, while she continued looking at her to do list, her planner. Her poor neglected book waiting to be read by Harry because her tired eyes couldn’t. She looked up at him and smirked. Ready to protest once more, but Harry shook his head again. “I remember everything you've said t'me. I would remember a 'no,' it would probably kill me t’hear y’say, no kitten. Y'call me crazy, y'say y'can’t or that y'don’t date. Never, not once, have y'ever said y'don’t want t'go on a date with me. Nor a flat out no. So m'going t’keep asking until y'say y'don’t want to. Because I think you do want t'go out with me but for some reason y'don't want t'allow yourself t'be happy. T'let someone else in. M'not going t'stop asking. Not until I hear y'say "Harry Styles I would rather die than go on a date with you. I never want to go out with you." Maybe that makes me conceited or creepy. M’sure it does make me crazy. But I don’t care. I want t'go on a date with you. I want t'go on a million dates with you, actually. So m'not giving up until y'call me creepy or y'say y'don’t want to.”

She swallowed like there was something stuck in her throat. Her eyes didn't move from her lap.

"Kitten," he murmured. She didn’t look up. “Poppy,” he whispered. She finally met his green-eyed gaze again. His expression soft, pleading. “Go on a date with me,” his voice was soft. Harry swore his heart stopped beating because if he was wrong, if she really was saying no all those times, he wasn't sure he could ever stop asking her. The idea he would never get to take her out to eat and order her favorite dessert. He wouldn't see a movie and wrap his arm around her shoulders and that was completely unfair. He wanted to offer his jacket to her when it rained and hold her hand while walking through a museum. "Poppy," he repeated.

She bit her lip, her lips opening and closing like she wasn't sure which word was going to pop out. “I can’t,” she whispered. Her eyes looking at him in a way that he could read right through her. They screamed at him, please don’t stop asking me.

As if he could ever. Harry smiled. "Okay," he shrugged, hope and adoration for her flooding him. "I'll ask again tomorrow."

A sad smile graced her face. "You're crazy," she whispered again.

"Only 'bout you, Poppy.”

*

Harry felt like he was getting sick. Probably due to the sweet girl in his apartment who had worn herself so thin and weary that she had inadvertently brought illness home to him. His head was killing him. His pillow was calling for him the way he wished his favorite stubborn woman would call him.

He didn't even know if she was home. But honestly, he was glad. If she knew he was sick, she would dote on him. Even if she was starting to fell unwell. The thoughts of her were never too far from his mind. He would never be too sick, too lost, too far away from her that she could leave his thoughts.

Sleeping was one of his favorite hobbies because he loved to see her in his dreams. Loved to see the unaffected, carefree, beautiful, stubborn woman. The angel that enjoyed affection both giving and receiving.

It was his nightly dream. The one where she snuggled with him, and it was like they had been together twenty years and not zero. The one where he could taste her lips (even if in his dream she tasted like nothing) he knew it was wrong. She probably tasted like chocolate or caramel or something deliriously sweet.

Unfortunately, his phone vibrated below his pillow pulling him from his perfect beautiful dream.

“Harry?”

He squinted at his phone. Head aching, throat sore. Curious as to why he didn’t have the number saved. “Speaking.”

“Oh, thank god,” the voice sighed. “It’s Joey,” she said. “Harry. Something’s wrong. She won’t stop crying and she won’t say anything but your name.”

He leapt out of bed. Illness forgotten even if he was dizzy. His heart thudded like a chorus of drums, and he didn’t even grab shoes as he raced out of his room, snagging his wallet and keys off the counter as he exited the apartment.

He listened to Joey say a few more things. Something about being out at a club. She never left the bar area. There was no way someone had hurt her. But Harry drove through the night with his heart in his throat like someone had hurt her. He wasn’t sure seeing her would even calm him. He knew where Joey lived, fortunately, so he sped as quickly as he could. The ache in his head and his throat was lost behind him along the drive.

He didn’t knock as he hurried barefoot into Joey’s apartment. Matt was coming from the kitchen and making his way down the hall. He looked at Harry sadly as he approached the main room.

“Poppy?” he whispered as he entered the room, her arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold herself together. "Kitten," he frowned and knelt in front of her. He picked her face up between his and he scanned her looking for signs of injury. Anxiety was in every inch of his body. But she fell into his arms before he could look any longer. Sobbing harder than when he entered. “M'here. M'here, baby. It’s okay. M'here," he kissed the top of her head, cupping the back of her head with one hand. The other arm winding around her and squeezing her tight to his body. “Oh kitten,” he sighed, sadness coating his voice. His heart ached. Like it was going to snap in half if she cried any longer. “M’sorry, baby. M'here. S’okay. Tell me. Please. I’ll make it better,” he promised.

Her sobs continued, like she was unable to speak. "Harry," she whimpered.

"M'here, Poppy, s'okay," he assured her even if it wasn't. "Baby," he frowned pulling away to look at her her tearful eyes. He tugged her back to his embrace and continued to soothe her. He rubbed his hand up and down her back hoping it was comforting as he hoped it was.

Harry caught Joey's eye, who looked over from the entryway and smiled weakly.

"You good?" She mouthed. Harry nodded and when he glanced back, her friend was gone.

*

Harry kissed the top of her head for the hundredth time. He continued rubbing his hand down her spine. His head was still screaming.

But she was well worth it. Her cheeks were streaked with salt lines. Her eyes puffy and red around the edges. He had pulled her to him so they could snuggle into the corner of the couch. Her body tucked between the back cushion and Harry's body. Like he didn't want anyone to see her if they entered the room.

“Harry?” Her voice was raw.

“Hmm?” He tucked her hair behind her ear and skimmed his fingertip along the same path repeatedly.

“Will you go on a date with me?” She whispered.

He smiled lazily. His heart exploding in his ribcage. “God, Poppy, I don't know. I have t'check m'schedule.” She smacked his chest with no weight behind it. He kissed the top of her head. “I’d take y’right now. Whenever y’want.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing t’be sorry for.”

"I have issues."

"We can work on them together."

"I don't know if you'll..." She trailed off.

"If I'll what?" He brushed his thumb on her cheek.

She took a deep breath. "I love love, Harry. I love watching people get married. I love when people have babies and grow a family. I want to have babies. I love reading romance novels and watching silly rom-coms where you can predict the ending before the movie even starts."

"Sounds pretty romantic and easy, Poppy," he murmured.

She swallowed continuing. "I will do a lot for you because I believe that's the way love is supposed to be. I want to make your life easier, and I want to do things that make you happy because I think happiness and love are in short supply and I want those books and rom-coms to be real."

Harry nodded. "Well—"

"I've never had that. I had a boyfriend for four years and..." she sniffled. "When we broke up, I said that I wouldn't do that again. I wouldn’t devote myself so completely to someone that wouldn't give me half as much. Then I met my next boyfriend and at first, I thought it was right, finally. It was equal. He loved me the right way, I mean. The way I thought I wanted, deserved... But then it was like he got tired of doing things. I don't know. Maybe my love language is acts of service. I don't know. I’m not making sense, I'm sorry. But..." she swallowed. "I broke it off after only two years that time. I just don't think I can be loved the right way... not forever. I don't know. I sound so selfish, don’t I? I don’t know why you want to go out with me so badly. I want someone to love me the way I love them, and I don’t think that’s...fair."

It was why she always had everything. Why she planned and hosted parties. Why she never drank and always took care of her friends. She loved everyone that was lucky to cross paths with her, with her whole, big, beautiful heart.

Harry tilted her chin up. "M’going to love you the right way,” he promised. “M’going to love you the way y’want because that's what y’deserve. If I love you anything less than you deserve then... well... I don't know what, Poppy. If that’s the case m’probably dead because s’the only possible explanation,” she snorted and tears dripped down her cheeks again but not like the night before. “But it's not going to be a problem, kitten. M’going to love you the way your books love. The way a rom-com loves. M’going to love you the way you love everyone that walks into your life. The way you so selflessly devote your kindness to them. M’going to love you the way you love," he promised. “Because s’an honor to love you,” he assured her. “S’an honor to be loved by you.”

She looked away from his gaze, closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his chest. His throat was aching again. He was really tired, but he would suffer her wrath and frustration of going on about this later. He knew that she would be beside herself knowing he was sick and dealing with her anyway. But where else would he be? "Harry," she whispered finally. He met her eyes the back of his fingers skimming her cheek.

"What, Poppy?"

"Do you love me already?"

"Of course I do."

She sniffled, her face crumpling with relief. Like all of it had been a trick up until then. "Okay," she whispered. “Can we go home?”

“Course, kitten,” he kissed the top of her head and moved slowly to get up from the sofa. All of his muscles ached from sickness and from the awkward but perfect position of holding her all night in the cramped little space.

He held his hand out for her to take as she stood next. “Harry,” she whispered softly.

“Hmm?” He hummed and looked at her with a soft expression that made her stomach flip, her heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, Poppy?"

“I’m in love with you too.”

--

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[niya-writesshit]

ok so imagine art being your college roommate's boyf but he's only dating her to see you (sorry roommate!) — so everytime he walks into to see her, planting kisses on her lips, his eyes are locked on youuuu. and everytime you get kicked out so they can get freaky he's thinking about you, surveying the room to find pictures of you or pieces of clothing that are clearly yours..... and he's just such a perv about it..... and u don't even noticeeieieue

🌸

TW: sex, infidelious thoughts, swearing, art is a little bit of a dick + a perv, implied bra stealing idk

word count: 500 (on the dot!)

¡! ❞ a/n: basically yes and basically stick w me because the first bit of this is like from your perspective but it shifts dw!!!! also this is horrible expect extremely shitty writing it types this on my phone

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

art donaldson always felt like forbidden fruit to you.

he was so tantalizingly close. he would pop into your shared dorm room every once in a while, crooked smile plastered on his beautiful face. "hey baby." not words directed to you — but the way he said them, voice low and husky, made your stomach churn in a way that seemed infidelious to your roommate.

he was so tantalizingly close. he would ravish your roommate with kisses, nipping and sucking at her neck while you just sat there, sprawled on the bed, feeling like an intruder to their romance.

he was so tantalizingly close. he would smile sheepishly every time you got sexiled from your own dorm. "we'll be done soon." and when you waited impatiently by your door — 20 minutes later, listening to them still going at it, you couldn't help but feel envious.

he was so tantalizingly close that it hurt you to even be around him, knowing that you would never get him.

.....

the only reason art was dating her was to see you.

you were so tantalizingly close. he went over to your shared dorm to see her, but his eyes were stuck on you, clad in your tiny tiny shorts and big shirt that he fantasised was his. he felt himself getting hard each time you moved and he got a glimpse of your bra, or another stretch of skin. he hated that she thought it was for her when it was allllll for you — the low look in his eyes, the husky undertone his voice gained when he looked at you.

you were so tantalizingly close. he planted kisses on her neck and face. he was looking at you, pissed when you averted your eyes to look away as if you were ruining the moment — you were the whole reason he was even here.

you were so tantalizingly close. everytime she gave him the look, everytime you were forced to leave, he internally cursed. "we'll be done soon." he only says that so he gets to talk to you too, hoping you'll think about him as you wait for them to finish. and while he's pounding into her, his gaze wanders across the room, taking in the decorations on your side of the room. a bulletin board with your name on it — pinned with pictures of your face that helped him imagine he was fucking your pretty little pussy and not your roommate. he surveys the floor, hoping to see something that'll aid his imagination a little more. when he finds it — a blue bra curled up near your bed that didn't look like it would fit your roommate — his head starts spinning and he cums on the spot, barely looking at his girlfriend as he closes his eyes and sees your face instead.

you were so tantalizingly close that it hurt him to even be around you, because you didn't seem to see what was so blatantly in front of you — art needed you.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"have you seen my blue bra?"

should i continue this idk????

¡! ❞ © niya-writesshit 2024

[mirouie]

roommate!percy blurb because let's ignore that i haven't written anything in a month . . .

the funny scene in the movie should've made you laugh, but it didn't. if anything, it's made you grimace like you're in pain, because it's made percy laugh, and goodness knows what his laugh does to you.

you like percy's laugh. you like the boyish cadence that carries with it, the little roughness around the edges tickling your ears in the best way possible. you like his voice when he talks to you, low and soothing as if his words are secrets meant for you and you only. you like his smile, his eyes, his hair, the way he smells.

shit, you just like him, really.

but he doesn't know that. he shouldn't, he's not allowed to, because he's your roommate. and roommates don't like each other like that, right?

"hey." the single word is a bird's song when you hear it. your eyes snap towards percy's, strikingly blue under the fluorescent glare of the tv. he's so pretty, your brain reminds you, and you forget to listen or respond to him for a second. "... you okay? is the movie boring?"

"what? no." your voice feels weird in your throat when you speak, mouth dry and tongue heavy. it's like you forget how to talk when you're around him, and you want to slap yourself because it's stupid. "no, the movie's not boring, percy. i'm sorry, i wasn't paying much attention.”

"what's going on in that pretty little head of yours, hm?" he taps a knuckle against your temple, the chaste touch feeling like fire under your skin. he inches closer before you can reply, and then his thighs are pressing against yours and you feel close to exploding.

"is something bothering you?"

"no!" silly, stupid. you clear your throat. "i mean... no, no. nothing's bothering me, percy. i'm okay." you wish he'd go back to watching the movie.

percy frowns, a real deep one, as if he's greatly perturbed by your answer. "please tell me, sweetheart. please?"

"i don't like seeing you upset."

you're grateful for the dim lighting, because the blush on your cheeks would've told him everything he shouldn't know.

"i'm not..." you sigh. "i'm not upset."

"then what's going on? did i do something wrong?"

gods, no, percy, you're an idiot! you want to yell, but you don't think it's very fair. you're being an idiot, too.

"you laughed."

percy's visibly confused. you want to run away and hide. "i, what?"

"you laughed. i... i don't like how it made me feel."

his brows furrow like what you said is a serious problem. "you... don't like how my laugh made you feel?"

he chuckles, unsure.

"see, you're doing it again!" you groan, hiding your face in your hands. percy's gone from your sight for all of three seconds before warm palms are wrapping around your wrists, gently pulling your hands away from your face. you feel like exploding again.

"what's wrong with my laugh, honey?"

you don't meet his eyes, you can't. you'll combust if you do.

percy hooks a finger under your chin, tilting it upwards to face him. he's a menace.

"tell me why you don't like my laugh, sweetheart."

"'s not... 's not that i don't like it, it's just..."

"it sounds nice."

the grin percy sports is giant. nothing could've erased it in that moment.

"you're upset because my laugh sounds nice and you don't like how it makes you feel? do you feel good hearing it?”

"stop asking me questions, percy!"

he is a menace, really, because he does what you ask and pulls you into a hug instead, burying his teasing and grinning into your hair.

—

hey so i actually don't like this that much because i think i've forgotten how to write but yeah! sorry if it doesn't make a lot of sense, this is just smth off the top of my head :P i'll write something proper soon though hopefully! xx <3

[lnfours]

ruin the friendship | l.n

summary: i’m not sure if you’re taking requests or not but i was wondering if you would ever consider doing a fwb/roommates fic for lando like the one you did for tom? i absolutely love your writings!! -> yes anon, my requests for lando are open :))) also i listened to ‘don’t ’ by bryson tiller while writing this so feel free to listen to it while you read <3

warnings: friends with benefits!! language, sexual tension u can cut with a knife, neck kisses, nothing too crazy, jealous roommate lando 🫣

masterlist | ask box 💌 | listen

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

you stood in the kitchen, stirring the pot on the stove as soft music played from the speaker on the counter. you hummed softly, the door closing catching your attention, making you spin around in your socks. the voices entered the kitchen and you smiled at your two roommates.

“mate, you’re crazy,” max laughed, “i don’t understand how you did that.”

“because i’m a great golfer, that’s how,” lando said, putting his phone on the island as he pulled a stool out to sit, “how was your day, y/n?”

you turned back to the stove, “it was alright, i guess. got some work done, went to the store, the usual. not nearly as exciting as you two’s day it sounds.”

max smiled, patting lando’s shoulder, “mans was a beast on the green today, should’ve been there,” you shook your head with a smile, thinking about the last time the three of you were on a golf course.

let’s just say, drunk people shouldn’t drive golf karts. max continued, “oh, how was your date the other night?”

lando’s ears perked up, his head snapping away from his phone. you grabbed the pot with the oven mitts, pouring the spaghetti into the strainer, “it was alright, nothing special.”

“you went on a date?” lando didn’t mean it the way it came out. you looked over your shoulder at him, “with who?”

“some guy who was all over her the other night at the club,” max said, “was it not good?”

“he’s kind of a douche,” you said, bringing the spaghetti back to the pot and adding the sauce, “didn’t have a good time.”

“sorry to hear that, y/n,” max said before standing up, “‘mgonna go shower.”

you and lando nodded, his eyes going back to watch you as you fixed dinner. you met his eyes, “you have a staring problem, norris.”

“you didn’t tell me you were going to go on a date with that guy.” he said. you dropped the spoon in the pot, reaching up to grab plates for everyone.

“didn’t know i had to tell you all of a sudden.” you shrugged. he stood from his seat, walking over to you. you backed up against the counter, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach as he placed his hands on the counter, basically trapping you between the counter and him. he had a slight sunburn on his nose from being in the sun all afternoon, his sunglasses were still pushing back his curls, and his eyes were damn near mesmerizing.

“suppose you don’t,” he said, “did he bring you flowers at least?”

you shook your head and he clicked his tongue, reaching behind you for a plate, “that’s a shame. i would’ve brought your favorite.”

“do you even know my favorite?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed as he turned around to the stove. he put his plate down on the counter next to you.

“of course i do,” he said, “your favorite flower is a sunflower, and if im not mistaken you have a tattoo of a sunflower right…” he trailed off, lifting up the edge of your hoodie and pointing to your hip, “here.”

his finger touched the exact spot the tattoo was, his touch burning through the fabric of your sweatpants. his smirked as you met his eyes again, grabbing his plate as he moved back to the other side of the island. of course he knew where it was, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before. he knew all the ins and outs of your body at this point.

“dinner smells good,” max said as he reappeared, in a t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as you tried to regain your composure, “you alright? look like you just ran a marathon.”

you nodded, grabbing your own dinner, “i’m good.”

he nodded but still gave you a look. after dinner, max went to go stream but lando stayed back to help you clean up. you were washing dishes as he placed them in the sink. once all of them were collected, he wrapped his arms around your middle. you leaned back slightly, tilting your head to the side to let him place his head on your shoulder.

“going on dates with other guys when you still fold every time i do this?” he joked and you huffed, laughing softly.

“i don’t fold every time,” you said, “i pick and choose, and i guess today is your lucky day.”

he pressed a gentle kiss to your jaw and you couldn’t help the soft noise that came from your throat, “hmm? don’t fold every time?”

you rolled your eyes, “it’s been a while.”

“too long,” he mumbled against your shoulder.

“i need a shower,” you complained, turning around in his arms.

“me too,” he said, brushing a stray hair from your face, “wanna save some water?”

you laughed, shaking your head, “you shower with the water too cold.”

“you’re the one who likes it boiling hot! it’s a wonder you don’t pass out in there.”

you rolled your eyes, “maybe you’re just dramatic, did you think of that?”

he fake gasped, “me? dramatic? never.”

you nodded, stepping away from him, “keep telling yourself that.”

“seriously, come shower with me,” he grabbed your hips, pulling you back to him. you let out a soft laugh as he pouted, “please.”

you let his lips go to your neck, giving into him the second time today, “no, lan.”

“cmon,” he said, “it’s the least you could do for going on a date behind my back.”

“you were the one who wanted to keep this,” you waved your finger back and forth between your two bodies, “a secret.”

“not anymore,” he said, “i’ve thought about it, let me take you on a date. a proper one. i’ll get you flowers, take you to the restaurant downtown you love that you go to with your friends. i’ll pull all the stops, you deserve it.”

you smiled softly, “only if you promise to wear that black button up shirt you wore last weekend.”

he raised an eyebrow, “you liked that, huh?”

“maybe,” you smirked up at him.

“okay, then you have to wear that red dress you wore on the night out the other night.”

“deal.”

he smiled before lifting you up off your feet. you laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck, “where are we going?”

“my bed,” he said, carrying you down the hallway and shutting his bedroom door with his foot, “because now i can’t stop picturing you in that dress.”

“thought you wanted to shower?”

he sat you down on his lap, hands wandering under your hoodie as yours tugged on the hem of his golf shirt, “need you more than a shower right now.”

[soobnny]

one in the morning — kim seungmin. roommate au. fluff. a little slice of life.

roommate seungmin takes care of you when you catch a cold (1.0k words)

“(Name). Wake up.”

It’s quiet in your shared apartment, save for Seungmin’s harsh whispers jolting you from your trance of sleep.

There’s a trace of grogginess in his voice, like he’d forced himself awake, you’re not quite sure. It’s a little difficult to focus on anything when every surface of your skin feels like it’s burning.

“(Name).” He tries again, cold hand tapping against your arm. He’s gentle with his actions. He knows it wouldn’t take much to jolt you awake in your state.

“Seungmin?” You croak, voice congested as a result of your fever.

When you open your eyes, your roommate makes it look like he hadn’t been hovering over you and trying to shake you awake for the past few minutes. He just stands back, glass of water and your prescribed medicine in hand.

He looks exhausted, messy hair indicative of just having woken up and you don’t miss the yawn that leaves his lips when he turns away from you for a second.

The big white shirt he’s wearing is a little lopsided that it exposes a bit of his collarbones.

“The doctor said you need to take this every 8 hours, right?”

It’s a rhetorical question. You know he knows. He’d practically dragged you to get yourself checked after you’d failed to hide your fever from him.

“Yeah.” You move to sit up, the sound of rustling sheets lingering in the silence. A quick glance at the clock on your bedside table will tell you it’s close to one in the morning. It’s too early to have shaken your roommate away from his sleep. You feel sorry.

Seungmin hands you the medicine and glass of water in his hands. “Here, drink this.”

You take the medicine from his hand, placing it on your tongue and chugging it down with water almost immediately, like you’ve been told. You would hate for the metallic taste of the drug to linger on your tongue lest you want to start vomiting.

Your roommate only takes the glass back after you've drank every last drop, feverishly placing it on your bedside table so he doesn’t make a mistake of dropping it.

“Just gonna check your temperature now, okay? Then you can go back to sleep.” His hand falls over your forehead, an evident frown tugging at his lips before shoving his hand down the pocket of his sweatpants to grab the thermometer he’d brought with him.

“Okay.” You yawn, rubbing your eyes.

“It might feel a little uncomfortable.” He uncaps the cover off of the thermometer before gently tapping at your chin, as if telling you to open your mouth so he can slip the thermometer tip under your tongue.

When he slips it in, the first thing you discern is how cold the metal feels in your mouth. The next is how warm his hand feels gently moving strands of your hair away from your face before falling limp by his side.

The device is uncomfortable, but you don’t want to bother Seungmin any more than you already have.

“You can close your mouth now, then we’ll just wait for it to beep.”

Seungmin does nothing for the 30 seconds it takes the thermometer to check your temperature, simply sits on the edge of your bed patiently. The way he attempts to keep his eyes open is almost endearing.

He must’ve had a long day today.

The thought makes your face twitch. Your roommate isn’t usually like this, always passive in the things you do, but there’s something about the way he’s taking care of you right now that suddenly makes you aware of how considerate he is about things you usually overlook.

Thinking about it makes your face hot, so you stop. You wouldn’t want to fool the small device in your mouth.

When the thermometer beeps, Seungmin takes it from your mouth gently, staring down at the little screen before sighing a little in relief. “A little better than your temperature this morning. How do you feel, though?”

“I can’t really tell.” You feel ridiculous for it. The least you can offer him is a little reassurance that his efforts at waking you up to take your medicine are slowly adding up to your betterment, but you genuinely cannot tell if you feel better or not.

“That’s alright. We’ll check again in the morning. You can go back to sleep now.”

Your mind is slow to process your roommate tucking you back in. It doesn’t see him taking the empty glass on your table and shuffling to leave the room. It can only hear the quiet patter of his feet and the heavy inhale and exhale of exhaustion from the boy.

You’re halfway back to surrendering yourself to sleep when you call his name. “Seungmin?”

He’s just about outside your door when he turns back and lets his eyes gaze over to you. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you that you can’t quite put a word to. It’s different to how he looks when it’s morning and you’re more aware.

“I’m really sorry for bothering you.” You think the guilt will swallow you whole if you keep letting it brew in your sternum, so you tell him. The words sound congested when they leave your mouth, but you hope he understood every single word.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

You could never be a bother sits on his tongue.

“Go back to sleep. I don’t have plans tomorrow so I’ll be here to take care of you.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking at you one final time before shutting the door closed behind him. He doesn’t give you a chance to protest.

A little digging will tell you he does have plans for tomorrow, and if you asked Jeongin he’d probably rat out his best friend and tell you how he’d asked to raincheck so he could stay and take care of you.

(“Jeongin, I can’t come tomorrow. Can we move it to Sunday?”

“Why?” He whines.

“...(Name) is sick.”

“Oh my god, you are hopeless. Dude, just tell her how you feel, it’s not that hard.”

“Goodbye.”

“Wait, tell her get well so—”)

Maybe if you were more awake, you would’ve noticed the little ways in which he cares for you. Maybe if your mind was a little sharper in processing things, you would’ve heard him saying he’d do anything for you, even if it was to sacrifice the sleep he values. Instead, you close your tired eyes and fall back to unconsciousness.

In the morning, you’ll be greeted by a hot bowl of soup and the company of a roommate who bears more feelings for you than you originally thought.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Just want to run to james in tears after having a bad nightmare :(((

Thinking about roommate!james here :)

You wake up to tears streaming down your face and the vaguest memory of someone chasing you.

You can hardly breathe as you sit up and wipe your face. It isn’t often that you get nighterrors like that, one where your real life and your dreams overlap so much that you nearly scream when your bedroom door opens.

“Fuck!” You shrill and James pauses.

“S’just me,” James steps a little further into the room just as you flick on the light of your lamp. Now he can make out the tear tracks going down your face and the way you’re shaking a little. “Bad dream?”

He doesn’t ask it in an unkindly way, just soft and full of concern as he usually is when you’ve woken up in such a state.

“Yeah, can I sleep in your room? Just for tonight.” You promise as if James would ever mind that his sheets smell like lavender after you’ve spent a night in them.

“Course y’can, angel. Let me bring your things.” By things, James means the yellow bear you’ve sitting on your bed, tucked under your duvet right beside your pillow.

As much as you hate to admit, you have a routine with James for nights like these. Nights where you’re breathless and tears are streaming down your face because things that go bump in the night have followed you back to sleep.

It was hard at first, crawling into James’ bed and letting his arms circle you and tickle your back and whisper to you till you fall asleep.

Now, it’s only just a little difficult- mainly because James is warm and comforting and he lets you bring your bear with you with no qualms or snide remarks.

“Did I scream?” You ask as you walk across the hall to James’ room. Another common companion of your rough nights.

“No, but I don’t know. I feel like I’ve developed a sixth sense for when you’re having a rough night, babe.” James pulls back his duvet and watches you climb in and lay your back against the wall.

“I’m sorry, James.”

He only shakes his head as he climbs in beside you. “Nothing to be sorry for, would hate that you spent the night afraid in your bed after one of them.”

James lays flat on his back and lets you arrange yourself on him as you please and then tucks your bear behind you.

Deft fingers climb up your sleep shirt, trailing up and down as warm vanilla and lavender flood his nose.

“S’all over now, angel. Wanna put something on the tv?” You shake your head, your nose brushing along his neck as you inhale James’ spicy cinnamon and clove scent.

“Thanks for always being here, Jamie.” Your hit breath tickles his skin and James has to do everything in his power not to shiver.

“S’no problem, sweetheart,” James thinks to himself that he needs to get his head out of his ass and ask you out soon- especially if you’re going to cozy up on him like this. “Try and get some sleep yeah, we both have nine am’s.”

[ddejavvu]

Hi! How are you my love? Happy mondayy! Could I request roommate!James Potter where he is usually touchy with the reader and open about his love for her but she always runs in fear of it ruining their friendship? But one evening reader is very soft and touch starved and in need of some love so she goes to him and James is shocked but also melts.

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

hi lovey happy monday to you too!! <3

--

Your heart shouldn't be pounding in your chest while you walk up to James's open door. He leaves it that way so that you can come and go as you please; he's literally offering you constant access to him. But your nerves are getting the best of you as you shuffle into the doorway, calling his name in a soft, meek voice when he doesn't notice you behind the screen of his phone.

His big brown eyes are wide with curiosity as he glances questioningly at you, "Hm? What's'a matter, love?"

"Can I please have a hug?"

There they were. The six words you'd repeated over and over and over again in your head, trying to drum up the courage to actually say them to James's face. The boy lends affection like band-aids, always eager to patch someone's bad day up with what's in plentiful reserve. but for some reason asking for it now is daunting, especially after the exhausting week you've had.

He blinks in rapid succession at your unusual offer, but he nods where he's laying atop his covers.

"'Course you can have a hug, darling." He drops his phone to his chest, arms outstretched, "C'mere, come get cozy with me."

You're extra mortified about being asked to crawl into bed with the man. He's not going to creep on you, you know that for sure, but it's scary to climb into someone's bed.

"James, I-" You don't want to inconvenience him by asking him to stand, either. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek, troubled eyes laid over him where he's waiting for your embrace.

"Come on," He soothes, opening and closing his hands in rapid succession to lure you in, "Come here, come get a hug."

You take the four steps necessary to stand by his bed, letting him do the rest of the work by taking your hand and pulling you onto the mattress. His arms are around you before you've even gotten adjusted, and you find your face tantalizingly close to his own when you finally settle onto the pillow.

He cages you into his chest, and even though it's exactly what you'd asked for, it's electrifying.

"What's wrong, darling?" He asks, his hand flitting up to trace your jaw with his thumb as he holds it in place so that you can't avoid his eyes.

"I've had a bad week." You lament, "Just- a tiring one, that's all. I'm tired and I don't want to go to work tomorrow."

His pretty brown eyes ooze with sweetness, same as his voice when he croons, "M'sorry, love. I wish you didn't have to go in either. Can you call out sick?"

"They need me to open," You shake your head, relishing the feeling of his arms wound snugly around you while you lay in his embrace, "I just have to get through it."

"Sorry," He repeats, mushing a kiss to your forehead that you think might make you explode into a cloud of ashes on the spot, "Opening shifts suck. Do you open for the rest of the week?"

"No, just tomorrow. I'm off day after next."

"That's good." He hums, and his discerning eyes study you, "You know you don't have to ask for a hug, right? M'always happy to give you one. Jus' go for it, okay?"

"I can't just crawl into your bed whenever I please," You groan, wishing more than ever that you could bury your face into his chest to evade his intense gaze.

"Of course you can," He laughs, and his chest shakes with the sound, jostling you slightly, "That's why I got a big enough mattress for the both of us, sweetheart. Always hoped you'd come for a cuddle."

"James," You warn, cheeks ablaze where he can surely feel the heat against his fingers, "You can't say things like that to me."

"Oh, hush," He scoffs, and this time his plump lips press to the space between your eyes, pushed over the bridge of your nose in an awkward spot. "Just snuggle in, love. You can sleep here tonight, m'kay? I'll set my alarms for you, and rub your back 'till you fall asleep. That way you'll be rested for tomorrow, and then we can spend the day after back in here."

"I'm not spending an entire day in your bed," You lie through your teeth, your tone pointlessly strict.

James knows you're lying, and he hides his grin by letting you mash your face against his chest, already beginning to lay gentle strokes over your back with the tips of his fingers, "Okay, darling. Whatever you say."

[xoluvx]

currently ovulating and neeeeeding billie to rock our shit in front of a mirror <3

your ovulation wish is my command please enjoy baby

"fuck, look how pretty you are," billie growled in your ear holding your face up. her fingers tight around your jaw causing your lips to purse. your spent eyes hardly able to stay open as she pounded into you.

the mirror that stood in front of your bodies recorded all the unholy acts she'd been performing for the past hour. you were currently on all fours, practically slumping as your arms grew weaker with each thrust. hence why her hand was now wrapped around your neck. her stare piercing through the mirror as your lips parted. your moans growing louder.

"all fucked out," she added and you whimpered pushing back on her, very much enjoying the compliment. drowning in it. head tossing back as her fingers wrapped tighter around your neck.

then she curled her arm around your torso, pulling you up so you were flush against her body. her breasts pressed to your back. your knees weak. she held you tight, cock buried deep in your pussy with this new angle. your fingers dug into your thighs as she placed a hand on your hip. she helped move your hips. you were a whimpering mess.

you were so sensitive, practically drooling as you moaned, gasping for air. your head hung low as you started moving your thighs bouncing on the cock.

"want you to look at yourself," she snarled. her tongue ran along your skin as she gripped the back of your neck. you looked in the mirror through hooded eyelids. her tongue writing her name on the side of your neck. teeth grazing your ear, biting gently. you were bouncing on her dick now. so desperate. so needy. her cock your only salvation.

your tits moved with each bounce then she cupped them. your breasts fitting so perfectly in the palm of her hands. a beautiful sight.

you ground your hips on her cock feeling the familiar coil. tingling all over. so tight it almost hurt. you were clenching on her cock. legs quivering. movements faltering as your eyes met through the mirror. hers dark, yours pleading for release.

she simply bit her lip shaking her head with a cocky smirk sending you into a fit of whimpers, whines, and moans. clawing at her hands unable to think or breathe.

[inazumass]

Lost in the Fire || Tamaki Amajiki x Reader

This is a sneak peek of one of the drafts I've been working on these days. I've started a couple other things as well because my squirrel brain has way too many ideas at once. No warnings apply for this blurb, just a cute little makeout sesh

----------------------------------------------------------

Shaky hands gripped at your hips, squeezing gently as he leaned into your touch. Soft lips melded against yours, your thighs on either side of his waist. With a hand on his chest you could feel the way his pulse quickened at the kiss, his cheeks radiating heat with the fierceness of his blush. Your hands moved to his hair, lightly gripping the fluffy indigo locks as he melted into you.

He whimpered when you broke the kiss, cringing internally at his shameless whines. His eyes were screwed shut, a wobbly little pout on his pretty pink lips. He wanted more, but you knew he wouldn’t be the one to cave first. The honey coloured glow of the sunrise filtering in through your bedroom window cast long shadows across the room and bathed his pretty face in its glow. You let out a sigh at the sight, your palm pressing lightly against his rose coloured cheeks.

“You’re so pretty like this, Tamaki.” You breathed out, earning another whine from your roommate.

“Stop torturing me,” He huffed out, daring to peek up at you from beneath his dark eyelashes.

It was a mistake to do that, he wasn’t sure his heart could take it. The sight of you, thighs splayed open across his lap, cooing praises at him, it had his breath catching high in his throat. His fingers twitched against your skin and earned a smug little smile from you, your soft gaze never wavering from his face. 

“Is that your way of saying you want more?”

[moonstruckme]

As promised: more roommate!james

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.3k words

Thunder crashes. A branch from the tree outside smacks into your bedroom window, making you jump. You smile a little at your reaction, and a frisson goes up your spine, giddy. 

You’re kind of in a euphoric state tonight. 

The storm came in early, darkening the sky hours before its time and bringing torrents of rain down upon your home. Immediately, your windows had been opened, your candles lit, and you were curled up on your bed with a book in your hands. 

Downstairs, you can hear the familiar buzz of the TV playing one of James’ sports games. The whole apartment smells like the cookies you made earlier, which you have a small plate of next to you and which your roommate had moaned as he’d bitten into upon you offering some to him. Sweetheart, keep spoiling me like this and you’ll never get me to leave. 

Suffice to say, you’ve been having a fairly good evening. 

Your book is just starting to pick up when the TV quiets. Everything quiets. There’s a thud, followed by a hissed curse. 

You laugh a little. Pick up your phone. 

Alright down there? You text James. 

More thudding sounds. You think about picking your book back up, but decide to wait.

If I were bleeding out on the living room floor, do you think I’d be able to text you back?

A moment later: If you wanted to do a thorough job of seeing I was alright, you should have come and seen for yourself.

Then: And I heard you laughing.

You smile to yourself, a quiet chuckle escaping you. Sorry, can’t, you reply. Too cozy. 

You hear his heavy footfalls coming up the stairs, and you have only a few moments to brace yourself before he’s swinging open your door. 

Lately, your body has been doing this thing where he looks at you and it’s like the ground softens beneath you. Luckily, you’re already on a bed, so it’s not really possible this time. 

James shuts off the flashlight on his phone, looking around your room with the ghost of a smile on his lips. 

“Woah. Are you having a seance in here?” 

You roll your eyes, ignoring the way the candlelight plays prettily over his features. “You’re just jealous that I was prepared for the power to go out and you weren’t.” 

“It looks like you were hoping for it.” James grins. He starts to cross the room, and you’re like a sunflower to your light as you tilt to face him. 

He lays down next to you on your bed, on his stomach with his forearms propping him up. It’s a somewhat tight fit, but James doesn’t seem to mind the way his hip and shoulder are touching yours. His shampoo smell wraps around you like a hug. 

You pick up your tea as an excuse not to look at him, blowing softly before taking a sip. James watches you consideringly. 

“You really are thriving in here, aren’t you?” he teases softly. “Look at you, you’ve got your fuzzy socks on, your tea, your book. You’re in paradise.” 

You smile sheepishly as you set your tea down on the floor. “Sorry you couldn’t finish your game.” 

“Oh, it’s alright.” He nudges your shoulder with his. “I’d rather hang with you anyway.” 

You feel your brows furrow, a confusing mass of emotions knotting in your chest. “Don’t say that,” you tell him softly.

You can feel James’ gaze warming the side of your face. His voice is just as quiet. “Why not?” 

You look over, and his eyes don’t flit away like a sane person’s would. They’re steady and warm as the flames around you. Instantly the room feels too small, him a little too close. 

James’ smile is almost tentative. “Look, I know you drew the short stick with this roommate agreement, but I plan to soak up as much roomie time as I can get. Sorry.” 

“I did not,” you murmur. 

“Didn’t what?” 

“You drew the short stick.” Your face burns. You know James too well to think he’d be making fun of you, but it’s difficult to imagine an alternative. He can’t really think you don’t like having him as a roommate after all the ways he’s been a friend to you, the times he’s stepped in to help, when you’ve only been a burden and a drag. “Not me.” 

His eyebrows twitch closer to each other, and his lips tilt bemusedly, as though they’re unsure of what else to do. The lenses of his glasses reflect the candlelight, brown eyes molten behind them. 

“I’m inclined to disagree,” he says. The air between you feels thick and sweet. Your heart seems to know something you don’t, quickening its rhythm in your chest. Then, because it’s James, he flicks up a brow. “Truce?” 

You laugh quietly, turning your face down towards your book. There are goosebumps going all down your arms. “Sure,” you say. 

“Good,” he murmurs. “Glad that’s settled.” 

You don’t respond this time. You’re not sure you can. The words on your page blur by, unnoticed and unimportant.

Lightning cracks outside. You gasp and turn to see it, and James’ lips meet you there. 

You should have known he would be soft like this. You’ve kept yourself from thinking about it, but you could have guessed. The first gentle, warm press of his mouth is so lovely you get lost in it, but when it lasts for too long and he starts to draw back, you remember that you can move, too. 

He takes in a tiny inhale when you part your lips for him, his hand finding your waist and his body curving over yours. Your arm falls out from under you, and James follows you down. He tastes sweet and familiar, like home. 

You bring your hands up to his face, one resting tentatively on his cheek while the other toys with the idea of slipping its fingers into his hair. The sky rumbles outside. Your heart pitters. 

“It’s okay,” James mumbles. His voice buzzes against your lips. “It’s okay, sweetheart, please.” 

You grasp at the roots of his hair, palm settling more surely on his cheek, and James makes a sound low in his throat. He breaks the kiss to pull off his glasses. You take them from where he sets them on the bed, placing them more carefully on the floor where they’re not so likely to get crushed. His lips curve over yours. You think that if you were to detour to either side, you might find a dimple in his cheek. 

“James,” you murmur. 

“Oh, it’s James again now, is it?” 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” He kisses the corner of your mouth. “What is it?” 

“Are you sure?” 

It’s a nonsensical question, but in fairness you think all the blood that’s supposed to be in your brain has gone to your lips, and James seems to get what you mean anyway. 

He chuckles quietly. “I am, yeah.” He makes a sound that’s almost like a sigh, hand climbing up your back until it’s trapped between your shoulders and your bed. “I don’t ever tell you how lovely you are, but I’ve…I’m sure. What about you?”

“I don’t know,” you admit. “I think so.” 

“That’s okay.” James kisses your chin, the curve of your jaw. 

“You’re lovely, too,” you tell him somewhat desperately. His lashes tickle your cheek. Your fingers are still burrowed in the hair at his nape. “I never tell you. I like when you’re here.” 

You feel his smile bloom against your skin. “I like you too, sweetheart,” he says, voice light with teasing. 

You frown, wishing he would take you seriously. “I do. I really like you.” 

“I think I like you more.” 

You scoff. He nips at your jaw, surprising a laugh out of you. “You can’t always win,” you say. 

James makes a happy humming sound. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

[thecowboykatsuki-anon]

Roommate!Bakugou who has to physically restrain himself when you burst into his room, hands thrown up as you flop down onto his bed dramatically, whining “I want to be in love so bad!”

He has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep himself from admitting every single thought he’s had about you since before you moved in with him and Kirishima, has to fist the comforter beneath his hands to keep from pulling you into his lap and kissing you senseless.

After a moment, he joins you in staring at the ceiling, mouth dry as he speaks quietly. “Love is overrated.”

[sunshinesteviee]

and they were roommates - s.h.

summary: from the prompt "we hosted a party for our friends last night and somehow we ended up making out and now it’s the next morning and we’re cleaning the apartment together and I can’t stop thinking about it" wc: 1.5k warnings: lots of overthinking and a flustered steve, but that's about it lol a/n: originally requested as a blurb that i got carried away with; i hope you like it!! sorry for the stupid title LOL

my masterlist

It’s unusually quiet in your apartment for a weekend morning where both you and Steve are home. The radio is on, playing the current pop hits, but it’s not enough to distract you from the distinct lack of conversation. If you wanted, you could probably chalk it up to the headache you were experiencing from your drinking last night, and assume Steve was feeling the same. And you tried, you really did. But you knew that wasn’t the cause of the silence filling your apartment. 

Last night, you and Steve had had all of your friends over to unwind and hang out. There’d been lots of alcohol, and you’d ended up drinking way more than you’d planned to. Your drunk decisions were never your best ones, but you’d really outdone yourself last night. The stupid decision had almost been forgotten until you rolled over in bed to find Steve next to you, his perfect lips parted as he slept soundly. It wasn’t exactly abnormal to wake up next to him, especially after a night of drinking, but nothing had ever happened between the two of you. Until last night. 

You hadn’t done anything more than kiss — albeit quite… passionately — but Steve's one of your best friends, as well as your roommate, and a drunken kiss had the potential to ruin everything. Especially since there’d always been an unspoken tension between you, at least from your perspective, but you’d resolved to ignore it in hopes of it disappearing. Clearly, it hadn’t quite worked. 

After silently panicking, you’d scrambled out of bed and escaped to the kitchen, busying yourself with making breakfast. Steve had stumbled out of your room into the kitchen not long later, but was still half asleep as he poured himself a bowl of cereal, slumped over the counter as he shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth. Maybe he didn’t remember. 

At the time, you’d told yourself it was probably good if he didn’t remember. But now, as you silently clean the apartment together, you’re not so sure. Would it hurt more if he really didn’t remember the kiss, or if he was just pretending he didn’t? Sure, you’d both been drunk, but it would be a lie to say you’d never considered the possibility, so the thought of it meaning nothing to Steve nearly eats you alive. 

Empty beer bottles and cans clink loudly as you toss them into the garbage bag you’re holding. It’s louder than it needs to be, but you’re trying to focus on cleaning, on the noise; anything to keep your mind from wandering back to Steve and the kiss you’d shared. Because the images of your kiss flash in your mind, of Steve’s hands on your waist, soft lips pressing to yours, do nothing to stop your racing heart. 

You can’t believe he hasn’t said anything, but then again, neither have you. Just the thought of mentioning it makes you flustered, and you’re not sure you can face him without feeling like you’re going to burst into flames, but you have to go back into the kitchen where Steve is washing the dishes that had been left out overnight. 

Steve is humming along to the song playing over the radio when you walk into the kitchen, and only glances up from the dishes for a moment to flash you his perfect smile when the sound of the bag of garbage you’re carrying betrays you. You manage to return the smile — though you’re sure it’s awkward and unconvincing — as you make your way across the kitchen to dump the bag into the bin. He’s still not saying anything, and you’re still not sure how to feel about all of it. Realistically, you know you should really talk about everything that had happened, even if it was just a one-time, drunken make out. You just can’t quite get yourself to do it, though, and chicken out of saying anything as you dart out of the kitchen and up to your room. 

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you grab your phone and dial a number you know by heart. Robin knows both you and Steve better than anyone else; surely she’ll know what you should do. The phone rings once, twice, three times, and finally she picks up with a grumbled, “Hello?”

“Hey, Robs. Did I wake you?” It’s nearly noon, but Robin’s night had been similar to yours — without all of the kissing, of course. 

She huffs, and you can hear rustling from the other side of the phone as she shifts in bed, “Yeah, but it’s fine; need to get up anyway before my mom starts telling me about the dangers of drinking again. Like I drink all the time or something. Anyway, what’s up?”

Suddenly the butterflies are back, fluttering in your chest, as you rub your free hand over your face, “Do you, uh… Do you remember anything that happened last night? I dunno how drunk you were but—“

Robin is quick to cut you off, “If you’re talking about you and Steve sucking face, yeah I remember that.”

You groan in embarrassment, face and chest filling with heat as you whine into the phone, “Jesus, Robin. Do you have to say it like that?”

“Well! That’s what it was! What would you call it?”

“I dunno, anything but that! But that’s not— I called ‘cause… We haven’t talked about it. I don’t know if he even remembers or—“

A scoff cuts you off again and you can practically hear Robin’s eye roll, “Holy shit, can you just talk to each other please? I’m too hungover for this and Steve’s already called me about it.”

“He did?”

“Yeah, at like four in the morning. It was freaking ridiculous. He said he’d talk to you. I think. I don’t really know, I was half asleep.”

Something like hope stirs in you as you thank Robin and apologize again for waking her up before you hang up. A call in the middle of the night could be good or bad, but Robin hadn’t made it sound like it was anything bad. She’s known about your crush on Steve, going so far as to insist that the feeling is almost definitely mutual, but you’ve never had the courage to make a move. You know it’s now or never. 

Opening your door, you run straight into Steve’s chest with a muffled ‘oof!’ His hand is raised, as if he had just been about to knock, but his arm quickly curls around your shoulders to steady you, “Whoa! Sorry, I didn’t mean to—“

Your own apologies spill out at the same time, “Shit, sorry! I didn’t know you—“

Nervous laughter erupts from both of you, easing some of the awkward silence as Steve takes a step back. He looks a little nervous, with pink cheeks and wide eyes, which is strange for Steve. Lifting a hand, he scratches the nape of his neck for a moment and then murmurs, “I was just— thought we should talk and…” He trails off, eyes darting to the floor and back up to you before he blurts out, “I remember.”

“You do?” is all you can think to ask, sounding much more eager than you want to.

“Y-yeah. I do.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, a ragged sound as your breath catches in your throat. “Is that… is that a good thing?”

Steve laughs, a sound of adoration, as his cheeks flush again, a dark pink underneath his pretty freckles and moles. He lifts a hand, fingers tugging at his messy hair, tongue darting out to lick his lips, “Um. I mean, I think so. If you also think it’s good. Unless you regret it, and in that case, we can totally forget it happened and—“

“Steve,” you say his name quickly to cut him off, the corners of your lips pulling up slightly as he stops mid-sentence. 

“Yeah?”

You take a deep breath, and then just go for it, “I don’t regret it at all. I really… I really like you, Steve.”

“Oh. That’s— yeah, that’s good. Can I kiss you again? Since we’re, ya know, less drunk.” 

When you nod, a little dumbstruck, Steve wastes no time in cradling your face in his hands as he steps in closer to you. His hands are warm against your skin, thumbs brushing out over your cheekbones as he gently tilts your face up towards his. His eyes flick to yours for a second, and then he’s kissing you. 

This kiss is more delicate than the one you’d shared last night, though his lips are just as soft as you remember. He tastes less like alcohol this time, thankfully, and more like the fruity pebbles he’d eaten for breakfast, and maybe a hint of his minty toothpaste. You can’t help but melt into him, fingers curling into the worn fabric of his t-shirt to keep him close. 

You accidentally let out a small noise of disappointment when Steve finally pulls back that makes him laugh, the tip of his nose nudging into the softness of your cheek. His lips brush over the corner of yours once more as he murmurs, “Thank god you let me kiss you again. I’d never have survived off of what I remember from last night.” 

“You can kiss me any time you want, Steve.”

thanks for reading ilysm <3333

[ohcaptains]

Pls I need more roommate Abby hc’s 😭

the way I could write these forever.

roommate!abby alwaysss texts you when she’s about to bring a girl over. they range from the casual, w a girl, or the drunken, w a girl, can’t promise she’ll be quiet😝 because as much as she’s lovely and polite, abby is a stone cold ladies man.

she does try though. she does try to be quiet. it’s usually not her making the noise anyway, because as she told you that one time, she’s a giver. the girls that leave abby’s room are always come drunk and dazed in the morning. they grin up at abby like she’s a saint, and as you sit at the kitchen table and watch the interaction, you can’t help but wonder just how good she is.

one time, the girl must have not known what quiet meant, because she was moaning and groaning through the wall. like that abby, she moaned, like that like that, and all of a sudden, her moans got muffled, abby grunting, just shut up and take it, as she covered the girls mouth with her palm.

your body actually shut down. you laid, rigid in bed, with your body trying to reboot itself as they fucked for at least another hour. the next morning, it was all you could think about as abby silently moved around you, mixing a protein shake.

roommate!abby likes to air dry. now, this is a problem, because she shares a house with someone who isn’t — unfortunately— her girlfriend, so she really has to pick her moments. usually, she just sneaks into her room and lounges naked in bed — muscular frame spread out wide, with her bicep flexing behind her head as she scrolled through her phone. one time, though, she hadn’t timed it correctly, and you walked in on her butt ass naked in the hallway. she’d frozen like a deer in headlights, standing there with her muscular back and perky ass out, hearing you yell, “abby what the fuck!”

when you have a girl spend the night, abby wants to know all about it. she pretends it’s because she wants you to share the wisdom, but really, she just wants to imagine how she could do it better. you figured out her motives quite quickly, so you’re detailed in your description.

abby would be laying with her head in your lap, and you’ll be explaining the events, watching her brows furrow and lips purse. “see, personally i would have continued to fuck you through the orgasm, but, if you enjoyed it.”

your relationship was confusing, and it broke all friendship protocol, but you both seemed to enjoy the teasing nature of it all.

roommate!abby is in love with you. or fancies you, at least. she openly flirts with you continuously, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it.

going on a night out? abby is your personal hypeman, coming up behind you in the mirror and gently clasping your hips, meeting your gaze and saying, you look hot as fuck.

you’re both handsy with each other, so it’s not an uncommon move on her part. she’ll pull your skirt down as you walk out of the door, then smack your ass, grinning as she says, go get em champ.

roommate!abby keeps her protein powder in the cuboard beside the fridge, and there is always a metal shaker bottle mixer ball draining beside the sink. her gym shoes take up half the hallway, and you’re always finding her workout straps dotted around the house. one time, you collected all of her shit and dumped it on her bed.

she was shoving her foot into a shoe, and had immediately knew what the problem was when she turned around as you threw your hands up and said, "I'm done!" "come on, baby--" "no abby. you keep your shit in here from now on, okay?"

sometimes, roommate!abby wakes you up in the middle of the night.

you’ll hear her soft voice, and turn over your shoulder, finding her slipping under your duvet and getting into bed with you. when it first started happening, she said it was because your mattress was comfier. but really, you knew it was because she suffered from nightmares, so you always let her snuggle into the back of your neck, and take her hand and hold it to your belly.

you always wake up pressed into the hard planes of her chest, her muscular arms keeping you locked against her. “abby,” you would mumble, trying to pull away, but the girl would groan something incoherent, tugging you closer.

sometimes, in the middle of the night, she kisses your forehead. whispers a small, thank you in your skin before passing out again. you've never told her about it.

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; fem!reader

pervy roommate!gojo, who was feeling extra bold one time and found himself standing at your door, watching your sleeping form. chest slowly rising and falling and soft breaths leaving your pretty lips. he's already half-hard by just looking at you.

he takes a slow daring step forward and waits for a reaction. but nothing. your eyes stay shut and only another soft sigh leaves your lips. he takes a couple of more steps until he's stood right beside you. god, you look adorable.

kneeling down, he's almost eye level with you. he takes another good long look at your face. so cute. plump lips slightly parted, you look like the dream you're having is good. he'll make it even better. he lets his eyes wander down your jaw, to your neck and to your barely covered chest. the small top you're wearing is not doing a good job at hiding what's underneath and he feels himself getting harder.

the blanket over you is only covering exactly half of your hip and one of your legs while the other leg is completely out. his gaze wanders further and your choice of sleepwear captivates him. he takes a quick glance at your relaxed face. could these shorts be any smaller? if you were to part your legs a little more, he could probably see you.

leaning back towards your covered cunt and he takes a sniff. closing his eyes, he muffles a groan. fuck. his hand seems to have a mind of its own, moving down his body, slipping under his sweats and finally giving his cock the very needed attention it deserves. he's rock hard and leaking pre-cum. the wet patch on his grey sweats proof of his desperation. giving it a firm stroke, his eyes roll back into his head. he needs to do something.

so he ever so gently trails his free hand from your thighs to your warm pussy. feeling the slight heat of it, he muffles another groan. he guides his fingers over it and towards your chest, pushing your top up as much as he can. the sight of your soft tummy makes his dick throb in his hand. a wave of goosebumps washes over your body, making you stir and him still. eyes wide, he waits for you to open yours. even though the thought of you catching him in this act is arousing on its own, he wants this to last a little longer.

after taking a second to make sure you're still in your dreamland, he drags his fingers from your stomach, over your top and to your breasts. the sound of his hand moving up and down on his pre-cum covered dick fills the room and he doesn't know if he's ever been this excited before. his slender finger circles your nipple and he watches it harden under his very eyes.

leaning closer once more, he presses his lips around your nipple through the top and a shaky breath escaping your mouth draws his attention. the way your lips part gives him a glorious idea.

quietly standing up, he pulls his sweats just down to his thighs, just under his balls and lets his dick spring up against his navel. he gives it another stroke before bending his knees and lowering it to your sleeping face. when his sensitive tip touches your soft parted lips, he's unable to contain the smallest whimper. he wishes he had his phone because the sight in front of him is quite literally the hottest thing in the world and he knows he will never get enough of you now.

he only manages to push an inch of his cock into your mouth before he feels his climax approaching at an alarming rate. quickly pulling out, he gives it a couple of fast and hard strokes and then he's already spilling his seed onto his palm with a shudder. his eyes remain on your face and now he really hopes you would wake up so he could make you clean him up. he takes some of his cum between his fingers and smears just the smallest amount on your lips. he spreads it around and then gently pushes it inside your warm mouth with his two fingers. his own mouth hangs open as he's trying to catch his breath but when your lips close around his fingers on it's own accord, his dick twitches again. he knows he's really pushing it now and you're bound to wake if he keeps fucking around, so he reluctantly pulls his fingers away and places himself back into his sweats. we'll continue this some other night.